


Shepherds and butchers

by Steinbjoern



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Reapers, Animal Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Contact War, Fluff, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Harassment, Slave Trade, Slavery, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, Tags May Change, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Underage Drinking, Violence, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-27 13:18:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 81
Words: 379,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8403148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steinbjoern/pseuds/Steinbjoern
Summary: The first contact war was followed by years of hot and cold warfare between humans and turians. Several attempts by the council to force a permanent truce has failed. Now both the Hierarchy and the Alliance has agreed to an armistice which has lasted for 6 years. Gagarin Station (Jump Zero)has been established as a place of reconciliation, where turian recruits and human biotics train side by side as supposed allies. However, old grudges die hard and for some of the students it's hard to let go of the past.
Will friendship outlast the end of childhood? When team Four is spread across space, divided by duty, will something remain of Jump Zero’s lessons, or will the new emerging enemy strain every relationship past its breaking point?
New chapters (pretty much) every week!





	1. First contact: Siberia

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own none of Bioware's characters.  
> None-native english speaker, no beta reader, first effort in fanfic. If you see any errors let me know. This is a learning-by-doing kind of project and mainly for fun.  
> Time lines will be altered to fit story. If I am unsatisfied with story progression I might rewrite some/all chapters.  
> Enjoy! :)

2157 CE

The troop carrier shook and creaked as it entered the earth's atmosphere. Weeks of orbital strikes had not cowed the inhabitants of this strange planet into submission, and the Hierarchy had no desire to send another dreadnought deeper into the Sol system for a backwater species with no sense of self preservation. General Arterius had wanted to make short work of the human obstinacy and had decided on a ground assault at the headquarters of several of the nation states of earth to break fleet morale, despite the objections of some of his captains.

Galenus Vakarian clutched his rifle and desperately prayed their carrier would not get hit before landing. The generals plan of breaking from the main fleet and coming to Terra alone while earth forces were engaged over Shanxi and Arcturus Station was typical of the mans arrogance. Earths smaller defensive fleet had nothing to compare to a turian dreadnought, but still, to come almost alone, with only a few dozen cruisers.. Galenus hoped the spirits of the ship would inspire them to a quick victory. 

The carriers VI evaded most of the incoming enemy fire, but they were grazed several times and the resonating tremble in the ship almost made him sick. He had never been one for heights, and one direct hit would cause a rather steep plummet down to earths surface. Captain Fedorian shouted orders over the blaring klaxons, explaining that their mission would be to take control over a nuclear missile silo situated in the northern hemisphere. The area was called Siberia, and long range scanners of the Belli Finem had revealed high activity in the camp surrounding the silo. It was inhospitable, uninhabitable and inturianly cold. Galenus suspected the captain had been especially chosen for the assignment after his objections to Arterius' actions.

The carrier landed with a soft thump, but the slippery ground caused it to slide into a snowdrift. Galenus heard safety straps creak as they came to a sudden stop, and he was jerked sideways by the impact. The cold was already seeping into the shuttle, causing him to shiver. Hopefully they were not far from their mission objective. The team inspected their armored survival suits and checked all weapons before opening the shuttle door.

All their training had not prepared the hot-blooded turians for an earth arctic winter, and Galenus felt regret for not applying to C-sec sooner. War was not the way he wanted to serve his people, and standing here on a freezing spirits forsaken planet populated by barbarians was not how he wanted to die. He and the rest of the team huddled at the entrance of the shuttle, not eager to explore this strange new world. Captain Fedorian finished checking his bearing and made adjustments to his omni-tool. The magnetic field in the northern areas could play tricks on electrical components, but he felt sure he had programmed the right compensation.

“We're ready, get out and seal the doors. We don't know if the humans can pick us up on their systems, so we can't stay her for long.”

Fedorian saw in their faces the same doubt he felt in his own heart. The cold would be crippling them in a few hours if they missed their target, leaving them vulnerable to any sort of attack.

“I have calculated our direction, one hour march to target.”

The team sighed, but Fedorian thanked the spirits they didn't seem defeated anymore. The men gathered their equipment and supplies in preparation for travel. He saw Vakarian tie a piece of cloth around the barrel of his sniper rifle to prevent snow from entering, and decided to do the same with his assault rifle. That is, assuming they fired at all in this frost, he thought bitterly. Curse Arterius and his headstrong pursuit of glory. 15 minutes later the turians were on the march.

* * *

As the turian team disappeared over a ridge, a smaller snowdrift above the valley began to move. A hooded man with ice crystals in his beard peered out before carefully pulling a com unit out of his white camo jacket, giving the code signal for proximity alert. The silo base activated several mine fields around the area, and reset their turrets with explosive rounds. Three kilometers further down, a small team was latching huskies to an unusually large dog sled and prepared to set off for the landing site. 

* * *

Captain Fedorian had assembled his men in the hills above the base. His scanner picked up turrets and what looked like a primitive mine field. There was no way to hack through the minefield, as these humans clearly had no high tech capability, and had to settle for mass production of low tech crap. Unfortunately, there was no way of knowing what kind of mines these were, unless he was prepared to set them off. The area scans indicated hundreds of small metal cylinders in the ground, and there was probably more in casings the scanner could not detect. He was unwilling to put the mission at risk but knew they were now working against time, as the cold was already dulling their reflexes. He had decided to send a small recon team to scout the other side, when he saw Vakarian tense.

“What is it, Lieutenant?”

Galenus pointed into the snow clad trees some meters away.  
“I heard something.”

Fedorian turned his scanner to the trees. He picked up small heat signals from several four legged animals.

“It's the local wild life, Vakarian. I doubt they'll give us much trouble.”

Galenus nodded to the captain, but something made him very uneasy. An gut feeling he couldn't suppress screamed at him of incoming danger, but he had no evidence to support his inner voice, and so he kept quiet.

The captain continued to instruct corporal Vesperus to scout around the ridge, when 5 furry earth animals trotted out of the forest. Three turians raised their rifles to shoot, when Fedorian hissed an order to stand down. In this cold the sound of a gunshot would carry all over the mountains. The animals began bearing their teeth and stalk forward. The captain issued another order, and five turians stepped forward with their combat knives drawn. The serrated edges would easily tear up these creatures, with less sound than rifle fire. Galenus felt a rising dread, and he pulled the cap off his scope and aimed for the animals. He watched them intently as they crept forward, their speckled gray fur puffed up and jaws open with a menacing growl. Natural predators, he thought, but so were turians.

The alpha was suddenly only three meters away from the formed line. Galenus watched in disbelief. Was this natural behavior of earth predators? Attack when vastly outnumbered? He stood a little above the rest of the team, sweeping the animals with his scope. And there it was. Confirmation of his fear. Under the thickset fur of the brown-speckled animal, he saw a small rein with a container fastened to it, impossible to spot unless you were looking for it. 

He shouted a warning to Fedorian as the alpha leaped into the line. When the animal got within half a meter of the first turian, it exploded with a huge flash, taking with it one turian and grievously wounding the one on either side. Galenus opened fire and took out the next animal, before the third jumped into a huddle and took out two more turians in a searing light. Fedorian shot the fourth as it charged him, and the fifth came in proximity of one of the injured turians and went up with an earsplitting boom. Blue snow rained down around them and pieces of blue meat and shredded plates littered the now darkened craters. Captain Fedorian was now down 5 men.

The explosions had been spotted at the base, and the turrets began raining down rocket fire, shaking the ground as the mortars impacted and caused columns of snow and dirt to rise into the air before falling down as mud. Fedorian desperately looked around. If they retreated, the cold and the inevitable pursuit would kill them anyway. They would never reach the shuttle in time. He had only one choice, charge the base through the mine field and hope against all hope that the humans had not buried anything like what was strapped to the animals, which remained undetected by scans. Hidden in the base structure they at least had a small hope of committing sabotage. The mission came first. He yelled at the remaining team to follow him as he held the scanner in front of him, and started to run for the minefield.

Galenus made one last swipe with his rifle and noted humans in the towers of the base, and wondered why they hadn't opened fire. His ears became aware of the shrill whine of an incoming shell and ran after his captain and what remained of his team.

Fedorian made it to the middle of the clearing before the scanner failed to pick up a mine. He threw himself forward when he heard the click, and with a second of delay he thought he made it, before he saw in the corner of his eye how the mine propel itself into the air and exploded into hundreds of shrapnel. The first mine set of the next, and suddenly the field was alive with bouncing bettys, personnel mines the humans had designed for their own kind. The turian armor could take quite a lot of damage, but the field was lined with quite a lot of mines. 

Galenus reached the edge of the mine field, saw the captain fall and the mines shredding his comrades with thousands of cuts, tearing through armor and flesh while their victims screams were cut short by more blasts. He stood nailed to the ground, witnessing the carnage and an internal struggle to join them in martyrdom or try to save himself. Galenus was spared the choice when a mortar landed near him and the blast tore open his armor and sent him sprawling into a snow bank. In his last moments of consciousness he heard human voices drawing nearer. His hand pawed the ground aimlessly for his rifle before a spasm of pain knocked him out.

* * *

David Anderson leaned back in his seat to watch Shepard’s shouting match with the Russian senior sergeant. Hannah spoke Russian well enough to function as a temporary liaison between the United nations and the United federations, but sadly, this time negotiations had broken down. The sergeant wanted to turn the prisoner over to his superiors for study and probably dissection, while Hannah insisted he was a prisoner of war, and was to be treated as such. Sergeant Volkov finally gave in to what he saw as a crazed soft hearted woman, and gave her the codes to the turians shackles. David tutted at Hanna’s triumphant return.

“Our arrival were supposed to further cooperation. My Russian is not as good as yours, but I'm pretty sure you asked him to sit on a dick somewhere in there.” 

She shrugged.“Might've come up. Standard Russian idiom. At least now we have a live prisoner to interrogate. If we left him here, he'd be dead in a week.”

“Are we sure that's a bad thing?” David frowned. “We know very little of these creatures. Now is perhaps not the best time to try and get acquainted. And keeping in mind if that plan of yours works, it won't be many happy turian faces around here.”

“What other time is there if their plan is to kill us all?” Hannah turned and touched the barred window. “We don't know why they attacked us, or how many there are. What we do know is that the giant ship above us is not the only one they have, but it's the only one here. They have decimated our defense fleet, and Mars won't help unless we cripple that thing. These ground assaults provide possibilities.”  
She turned back to David.  
“Some of them rather farfetched and improbable, but if earth is slated for another round of extinction, who'll remember whose ideas were more crazy? She winked at him.

“Ah, that lovely gallows humor of yours. How I've not missed that.” He gave her a look of disapproval.

“Really Anderson, If I hadn't seen your birth date on file, I would have pegged you for the old married man and me for the young sprout with a man in each port.”

“What? I don't.. You won't say that in front of Sarah, you hear me?” David spluttered.

“Yeah yeah, keep yer pants on. I'm going to check on our prisoner, alert me when our ride arrives.”

* * *

Galenus woke with a severe ringing in his ear canals. He mumbled indistinctly to turn it off, before his brain lifted some of it's fog, and it became clear the sound came from his own head.  
“The explosions..” he muttered while trying to get up. His movements were stopped by straps and chains snaking around his torso and wrists. He threw a fit of panic, vainly trying to coil and twist his way out of the restraints. The metal chains did not relent, and clinked mockingly in the large room. His head swiveled around the cell before he caught sight of a human calmly observing his feeble escape attempt. Galenus growled at it, daring it to come closer. The humans mouth jerked upwards in an expression he didn't know, showing teeth as it approach him slowly. 

Galenus forced himself to lay still as the human reached for one of the chains that reached around his upper body, and punched in a release code for the lock. It fell away, and it stepped back quickly. He tried to lunge again, but the removed chain had merely prevented him from sitting up, he was still tied to the bed, and the bed was welded to the floor. He stared at the human and sneered at it's incompetence. If the locks were digital, then he could easily hack it when.. He felt a sting on his left arm and now saw the bandages around his wrist and waist. They'd operated on him. He felt panic again. They had also removed his omni-tool. Spirits curse these fucking animals. The humans mouth pulled downward, and it said something in a low voice. Galenus didn't care. They had killed his team, and now, as the last remaining man he was going to be tortured for information, he was sure of it. Well, he would not make it easy for the barbarians. He threw himself at the restraints again and shouted in palaveni that he would rip their throats out if he got loose.

Again the metal clinked and jangled with every struggling move. It had the opposite effect of what he had hoped. The human now looked at him with glittering eyes and a small staccato sound escaped from it. He made out the words "feisty one", but not their direct meaning. He got the gist of it, however. The human found him amusing.

The realization that he was entertainment for his captors caused him to fall dejectedly back onto the bed. He felt a warm trickle on his side. All his fighting had caused the wound to reopen. The human saw this as well, and opened the door barking orders to other humans behind it. To larger humans in combat armor and armed with rifles marched in. Galenus assumed these to be males. They lifted their rifles and aimed directly at him, while the smaller female human grabbed some fresh bandages out of a bag. She approached him slowly again, gesturing at his wound and the bandages, and then to the soldiers. The meaning was clear. He considered making an attempt on her life and so cutting his own life shorter, but in truth he didn't want to die on this planet. His family back on Palaven would never know what happened to him, and he'd never see Vistilla again either. He made a low grunt and laid back to convey he wouldn't try anything, and the human did that thing with her face, making her teeth show. Apparently it was supposed to be reassuring, but to him it looked like she wanted to eat him. 

Galenus tried not to squirm to much then the clueless female changed the cloth around his waist. Oddly thankful for the pain that prevented any ideas of a mishap with his plates, he stared at the ceiling and felt her many creepy fingers administer care in a unexpectedly gentle manner. When she'd also finished his wrist, she fished a few packets of turian field rations out of her pocket and put them beside him. She also signaled one of the soldiers to hand her a canteen from the corner. He got it hesitantly, while the second soldier kept his rifle firmly fixed at Galenus. The turian could smell the mans overpowering scent of fear in this closed room, and he hated it. The female stepped back again and ordered the soldiers out. She leaned back against the wall as he sat up, eying the rations with care.

It seemed improbable they would poison him when he was already a prisoner. He looked back at her. It seemed like she wanted to make sure he wasn't hungry, and he could choose whether to eat the food or not. He chose the former. If an escape attempt was going to have a chance of success, he could not be both starving and injured. Galenus tore the rations open and tilted his head back, dropping the food in his mouth. The canteen was inspected carefully, he sniffed at it and poured some of it's content on the floor. It seemed to be water. With his head tilted back, he poured the liquid down his throat, then tossed the canteen back to the human. She'd been watching him with rapt attention. The feeling of being fed and cared for by your enemies made him angry, and he refused to acknowledge her presence. This was no more of a deterrent for her than his earlier growling. She stepped into the middle of the holding cell and pointed at herself.

“Hannah Shepard.”

He refused to speak. She sighed and tried again.

“Hannah Shepard. Human.”

She pointed at him. “Turian.” No reply. “Fatuus.”

That made him jolt his head up. Did she speak his languate? No more turian words came, and he figured she must've heard it from others of his kind. How many others had they captured? He decided to play along for now to gain some Intel. He pointed a talon at her.

“Human. Hana Ssheprrd.”

His finger tapped on his own chest. “Turian. Galenus Vakarian.”

The human flashed her teeth again.

“Galnus Vakrian.”

He gave her a dark look and muttered “fatuus” back at her.

This time she laughed aloud, and picked up the canteen. She held it towards him, and he understood the gesture. He made a swallowing motion. She walked back to the door and gave more orders, handing the canteen to the soldier outside. While they waited the human made several attempts at pronouncing his name before she go it right.

“Galenus Vakarian,” she finally managed, giving him a nod.

“Shepard,” he replied and returned the nod, it was a similar greeting to theirs.

A dark skinned human came back with the canteen, and whispered something in her ear. Her expression suddenly changed, and she tapped her fingers on her right hand pocket, seemingly lost in thought. The male gave Galenus a suspicious stare, and pointed to himself. “Anderson.” He placed the canteen on the floor and kicked it towards the turian. Galenus felt offended. He did not trust this new human, and with his feet he located the canteen and kicked the water back.

“Sheparrd.”

The two males glared at each other.

The female had watched their interaction with an expression Galenus now recognized as amusement. The Anderson human took a step towards him, but she gave him a pat on the shoulder and picked up the water. With her eyes on him she twisted off the cork and mimicked his method of drinking, head tilted back and then poured. It was clear this was not the usual way for humans to drink when she got some water stuck in her throat the wrong way, and started coughing. Anderson started slapping her between her shoulders. Galenus was unsure if this was supposed to help or if it was punishment. When she stopped spluttering, she put the cork back on the canteen and slowly walked over to him. As she held the canteen out at arms length, Anderson pulled his gun out and held it casually along his side. Galenus got the message, slowly raising his own arm accepting the water.  
The humans pulled back and continued their hushed conversation.

Galenus drank more water, and tried to observe the two without being obvious. They disagreed on something, and he guessed it was him. Anderson kept waving in his direction with anger in his low voice, and the female calmly rebuffed him. He finally relented, and she left the cell, talking in a changed language to the soldiers outside. Anderson stood listening to their discussion as he fiddled with something in his pocket. Absent absentmindedly he pulled it out. Galenus held back a gasp. It was his omni-tool implant. Immediately he let his gaze fall. It was imperative that he went with these humans now, if he could get his hands on and reactivate the omni-tool his people would rescue him. He would behave for now, but when the time came, he wouldn't hesitate to kill either of the humans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting this out took longer than I thought. Hopefully someone out there will find this interesting. There will be big time leaps, because Shepard - the toddler years might be a dreadful bore, but I will try to make the transitions as seamless as possible. Advice and tips are welcome, even if you don't like the story.  
> Pure evildoers will be struck by the delete-demon. :)


	2. POW

 

Hannah fastened the last strap on the tarp covering the caged turian. The Russian quarter master had nearly cried when she and Anderson had commandeered almost every last blanket and pillow on the base to line the turians cage, but Hannah was indomitable. The alien would not freeze to death in her care. Anderson were attending to some last minute details of their plan, and were expected to be back soon. She peered in under the tarpaulin, and the bright eyes of the turian almost shone in the dark. The base mechanics had welded a big metal anchor chain on both the cage floor and roof to keep the turians arms mainly in the middle of the movable holding cell and to keep him from slashing at them from within.

They had also welded a makeshift bed in the middle, with side bars preventing blankets from falling out. The whole thing resembled nothing so much as a giant nest, and Hannah reckoned that this would either be construed as a giant insult for the avian-like alien, or at best some wheedling attempt at earning his trust. He'd been very cooperative after she'd given him the water, but Hannah didn't trust him for a second. A captured soldier thought of little else than escape, and if they weren't careful, he would most certainly kill all of them in the attempt.

Over by the garage door a Russian private saluted, and Anderson walked in. He beckoned her to follow, giving a dark look to the tarp.

When they were inside the waiting room of the mechanics, he closed the door.

“Dureios Five have completed the mission.” He sounded anxious. “None of the other four have been picked up. Still just sitting out there.”

“This time they have to come back, David. The silo is too big a risk, even for them.”

“God I hope you're right.” He shifted his attention to the small prison. “Can't believe you're taking that thing with you. It's a great risk.”

“I would never risk Jonathan’s life, or the lives of my crew needlessly. Drop it.”

Anderson wanted to protest further, but caught the stern look in the commanders eye. “Yes mam.”

She laughed. “None of that when we're alone. We've known each other for years. You're the Alliance's golden boy. Will probably outrank me some day, and I won't have you pulling rank on me every time I disagree with you. That is, if we survive this.”

He grinned at that. “Think the alien will survive the trip?”

“At least it won't freeze to death. I have Karin standing by for when we arrive. It seems that she has seen the insides of a turian already. Didn't ask how.”

“Probably for the best.” Anderson shuddered. For such a mild mannered woman, Karin Chakwas sometimes gave him the creeps.”

Hannah slammed her fists on the table. “The Alliance's best doctor, their first N7 and a damned good commander-”she grinned at him, “Stuck on earth because their ship got blasted in dry dock. “The gods certainly has a sense of humor.”

“The gods? Plural?” Anderson took a playful step away. “Think I'll stand a few paces away. Reckoning, you know.”

She shrugged. “I like to hedge my bets.”

“Don't let general Williams overhear you say that. That is a man that fears the wrath of god.”

The room turned silent, thoughts wandering to Shanxi.

Hannah shook her head. “He's too stubborn to die. Probably Russian ancestry.”

Anderson raised an eyebrow. “Russian? What makes you say that?”

“Have you heard his theory on dogs and bears?”

“Can't say I have, but I'm intrigued.”

“If you're attacked by a bear you'll sic your dog on it, no matter how much you love it. Or something to that effect.”

“That's cold. True, but cold.”

Hannah sat down. “Yeah. The turians didn't consider the trained hybrids a threat at first, except for the one we have in our travel cell. He's very astute. Be careful around him.”

“No worries. I got my eye on him.”

* * *

Galenus felt his body being jostled around when they loaded his cell on to what he assumed was a primitive and rickety aircraft. The bedding provided by Shepard the female kept him from being thrown around, even if he was chained to the center. Clever little human, he thought. He could move around the bed, and sit in the opening, but his reach didn't extend to the outer bars. Safety precautions he too would have implemented if he were in their place. From everything he knew and had heard about humans, they were transporting him to a secret base for information extraction. Galenus was only a corporal, but that surely wouldn't stop them. Everything he knew about the Belli Finem could be exploited by a cunning enemy, and the turians on his team had grievously underestimated these barbarians, to their detriment. He would not make the same mistake again. Remembering the gut-feeling he had when those animals came out of the woods, he decided not to mistrust it if it happened again.

Without his omni-tool he was unable to pinpoint travel time, and the aircraft was more noisy and shaky than he was used to. Judging by sound the thing stayed aloft by some swirling flaps above it, and this did nothing to alleviate his reluctance to heights. If they fell down, his body would never be recovered and brought back to Palaven. Instead he would be a pile of ashes on the human's home-world. Galenus found the thought repulsive. He only needed one chance, and he would teach the damned humans a lesson they would not soon forget.

When the aircraft finally landed, it was not the end of his undignified stay in the cage. The cage was hoisted onto another vehicle, and he was driven from the landing site to a hall of sorts. The smells around him were metal, machines and sweaty humans, and he was starting to feel unwell. His wound needed changing, he was hungry and needed to relieve himself. None of which he wanted to, or could do trapped in here. A human jumped onto his cage, slapping a chain around the central beam. Galenus tried to reach him, but to no avail. Deprived of all possibilities, he had to wait. At least it couldn't get worse. The cage was suddenly hoisted in the air, swung to the side and then began a slow descent down a drafty shaft. Galenus felt the cage swing slowly from side to side like a pendulum all the way down. He was wrong, this was worse. He swore inwardly. No wonder the barbarians didn't cow to orbital strikes. They could live deep underground, like worms. If only he could get this message to general Arterius, they could end this war faster and he could go home.

* * *

Anderson stood guard while the turian prisoner descended down the ventilation shaft of the old metro system. The Russians, having endured countless invasions in the past had built all city metro tunnels as easily convertible bomb shelters for their inhabitants, and under this particular station was the ad hoc United North American States embassy and field hospital. Every entrance and exit of the metro was guarded by Russian special forces, and only Hannah's position as the chief planner behind Dureios had allowed them to bring the alien down into the tunnels. He did not like the idea of having a turian on the loose in those dark long tunnels, stalking and preying on humans while trying to get out, but, Hannah was determined that it was a prisoner of war, and so he had to make do. At least the alien would be locked inside his miniature prison for his stay here.

Suddenly arms snaked around him from behind, trapping him in a hard embrace. He stiffened. Sarah's low laugh was in his ear and her hot lips on his neck, and slowly his heart resumed it's former pace.

“Sarah, sweetheart, one day I'll hurt you when you do that.”

“Never, you're N7, probably sensed me down in the ground.”

Anderson turned around and returned her embrace, kissing her back with fervor. Some of the spetsnaz started laughing and hollering, and they broke quickly broke apart.

“Been too long, David. Did we do it this time?”

Anderson simply stared into her dark brown eyes and had trouble focusing his mind on her questions.

“David, did we get Dureios?” She cocked her head with a smile. Anderson returned to the present and smiled back. 

“Hannah thinks we did. She's going back to oversee the operation, and make sure the radar is still operational. I'll be staying here for a few days, making sure the.. package is secure.”

She gave him a knowing look. “Call it what it is. A turian.”

His eyes darted around to the surrounding soldiers. “How do you know that. Only a few of the guards know, and if they-..”

“What else would it be, babe? Large cage, not heavy enough for supplies, clearly something that needs to breathe inside..” She enjoyed the look on his face. “And it upsets you and was cleared by Shepard. Don't exactly need a crystal ball, now do I?”

He pulled her close and whispered in her ear; “If you tell anyone, I won't have my way with you all night.”

“You wouldn't dare!” she mock scowled at him.

“Yes I would. A long life of celibacy for both of us.”

She smiled against the side of his neck. “These N7 types, so ruthless and cruel. I should get a nice boy.”

“Poor little SEAL. As if you could stay away from aaall this.” He motioned to himself before kissing her again.

She found herself agreeing with him. 

The gears on the crane screeched as they came to a full stop, and the chain swung idly while the underground crew secured the makeshift elevator to the boom. The machinist got the green light, then started hoisting the platform back up. Anderson turned when he heard Hannah and the ground supervisor walked in from one of the passageways. She gave the man a few parting words, and headed for the elevator site. As she approached, she spotted them standing nearly on top of each other.

“Starting already, I see.” She nodded at the pair.

“Can't waste time, seeing as I'm going back with you in a few hours.” Sarah smiled.

“What? Without me?”

“Really, sweetie, there's a war on. Some of us need to win it, while the others hide underground.” Sara flashed a mischievous smile.

Hannah tried to hide a snort and began studying a very boring spot at the wall.

“Well, damn. That's the worst news I had all day.”

“Worse than the package?”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But yes.”

“Would you two kindly refrain from alluding to sexual activities, some of us are married, after all. Haven't seen a penis in years.” Hannah's eyes were still fixed on the spot, but the lovers snickered knowingly, and said nothing.

The elevator platform stopped with a jolt. A few orders in Russian, and the three of them stepped on. Gears whined back to life as they descended into the dark tunnels.

* * *

Jonathan Shepard arranged for the tarp covered cage to be stowed away in a closed off cul-de-sac, and set a guard before hurrying back to the elevator. It felt like an eternity before the platform was all the way down, and the wait was excruciating. When the platform thumped the ground he was already on it and wrapped his arms around his wife. Hannah hugged him back with desperate zeal. The two were lost in the moment, and Anderson and Sarah made themselves scarce.

“Miss you, always,” Jonathan whispered in her ear.

“Of course you do,” came her reply in a suspiciously creaking voice.

They chuckled at their shared joke, and he cupped her face for another kiss.

“Please leave the elevator, people. Some us work here,” came a voice from the lift crew.

They broke apart and he grabbed her hand leading her towards the cul-de-sac.

“I wanna see it.”

“I’s not a toy, Jon. It's a soldier, very dangerous and at least somewhat intelligent. Like you.”

“Ahhaha, funny. Be mean to the man who loves you, see what that gets you.”

“More love?”

He snorted. “Not a chance.”

When they entered the sealed off tunnel, Jonathan pulled the provisional doors shut. His wife regarded them with a skeptical eye.

“If he gets loose in here, those doors won't hold him at all.

“Won't happen.” He assured her. “Now pull the tarp off, I'm sure he'll appreciate the light.”

Hannah loosened the front latches and pulled the tarp halfway off.

Galenus blinked his eyes from the sudden exposure to light before he fixed his gaze on the two humans.

“Damn, it's big. Did we do this?” He pointed at the bandages covering the turians waist and wrist.

Hannah looked unhappy with the question. “A mortar did the waist, _we_ ,” she emphasized the word, “did his wrist. They sometimes have a com-system imbedded in the flesh of the forearm. It was.. necessary.” She dragged the words out.

“Hey, sorry. I'm sure it was. Never implied that you'd cut it for fun. Do you know it's name?”

“He told me Galenus Vakarian. Might be true, might be false. Who knows. He's been cooperative. A little too much, in my opinion, considering his reaction when we first met.”

“Well, you're kinda an acquired taste. Not for everyone.” She shot him a look that said “really?”

“More for me,” he replied happily. “Now, let's see what our new guest needs.

* * *

Galenus didn't care for the fast transition from dark to light, but at least they weren't transporting him anymore. In front of the bars stood the female Shepard, and beside her with his fingers entwined in hers stood what must've been her mate. He was hungry, thirsty and desperate for relief, but how to explain all this to the humans. It might take all day. Her mate swung the door open with what Galenus figured was meant to be a friendly show of teeth. Shepard herself walked up to him and pulled a few ration bars out of her pocket. He got up and held his hands in front of him. She told the mate something, and he pulled out his gun and aimed at him through the metal bars. Galenus understood. Same procedure as last time. Shepard leanded in far enough to place the ration bars in his talons. Then she barked something at the guard, and he pulled a container from his belt. Shepard took it and did the same thing she'd done at the base, without the choking and spluttering this time. After handing the container over, she seemed to relate the story to her mate, pretending to choke and heave. They both laughed. He gulped down the food and water, but how was he to explain his next urgent need. He had to try demonstrating.

“Shepard.”

She turned immediately. He held the container above his mouth pretending to drink, then pulled it down the line of his body and held it in front of his groin.

The man behind her laughed again and said a few words. Her eyes widened as she looked at Galenus and said something that sounded like “sorri.” Her mate went and fetched a bucket, and was about to lean in and hand it over to him. Shepard pulled him back, giving a low rebuke while eying Galenus carefully. Way too clever, he thought. Galenus hoped Shepard would leave the place later, her presence would make his escape more difficult. She pulled out her own gun and aimed it at him, before letting her mate set the bucket down inside. Strangely, they both turned away when he fumbled with his undersuit. The chains were hampering his purpose, but when they were all looking in another direction it gave him a moment to study the area. He noted the flimsy doors, the single guard, army crates and a murmur of voices outside. This must be an Alliance base, he reasoned. He hadn't seen or heard anything resembling civilians. When he could finally release a stream, he gave an contented sigh. Shepard and the mate moved a little away. He glanced over the guard’s position,  but his keen eyes caught something else: Shepard's mate placed his hand on her belly and squeezed it gently, before pulling away quickly, looking around. Galenus averted his eyes just in time. Now that was interesting.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be longer, but I have a rather lot of overtime coming the next few weeks and an unbending urge to get out another chapter before that. There might be (most likely are) some grammar mistakes. Next time will be more action-oriented. Stay tuned! ;)


	3. Bitter ends

The warm smile on Jonathan’s face when he touched her belly made Hannah feel lucky despite their situation. The war, the plan, the ship she lost, it was all surmountable when he was beside her. She had to make sure he stayed that way. They spoke in whispering tones, standing a few meters away from the miniature prison.

“How's your ribcage?”

“It's fine, I'm pretty much healed.”

“Are you? Or are you lying to your doting wife?” She gave him a knowing look.

“Of course not, sweetheart.” That complete look of innocence had fooled her when she first knew him. Not anymore.

“Not even if she threatened to punch said ribcage?”

A guilty chortle escaped him. “Well, I might be omitting some things from the old ball and chain. But you know how she nags. You are much more fun.”

“Not funny, Jon. I need you to heal up, not puncture a lung and choke to death.” She smiled sweetly. “But if you do snuff it, I'll tell the munchkin that captain Hackett is the father.”

“Hah, as if there is any woman in that man's life beside his ship.”

“Seriously though, I mean it. And it's not just for selfish reasons. If you die, we have no other radio man on this side of the Atlantic capable of signaling the fleet undetected. Not Arcturus and not Mars.”

“Radio man? Hopelessly outdated classification.”

“I’m a soldier, not a wimpy office-man.”

“Ouch. If I hadn't been forced to a shotgun wedding..”

“Love you too.”

They turned back to the turian. He had finished his necessities and was now calmly sitting on the bed. The bucket he'd availed himself of was pushed as close to the door as he was capable of.

“I see what you mean with too cooperative,” Jonathan muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

“Mhm. Still, those wounds needs changing too. Can you trust the guard?”

“With your life.”

She hook her head. “Then we need to get Karin. I want her to do a general checkup of our prisoner, make sure he doesn't expire in our care. We might need more guards for that.”

“I know some guys,” he smiled. “Let's go.”

Shepard picked up the bucket without examining the content and locked the cage. She handed the key to the lone guard when they left.

* * *

Galenus watched them leave, and the guard was again sitting at his post, casually observing him. That was unfortunate. A plan was forming in his head, but it would require him to get out of these chains. Shepard would never allow it, he was sure of that, but that mate of hers might. He didn't seem like a regular soldier, maybe a specialist of some kind. Galenus yanked at the metal cutting into his wrists. The hole from the implant was darkened with blood, and would most likely get infected if not treated with disinfectant. He pondered this for a moment. Shepard had herself changed his injuries up at the other base, so they wanted him somewhat undamaged. If the chains inflicted more wounds..

While pretending not to watch the guard he held one chain immovable to prevent it from jangling, and started to roll his wrist inside it. The chafing movement burned after a few moments, but he persisted. After several minutes he was bleeding from one arm, and switched to the other.

With both wrists bleeding, he got up and paced slowly around the bed, making sure the guard saw the chain catching on it's edges. He jerked at them irritably and made small noises of discomfort and pain. It was doubtful if Shepard would believe his new-found injuries were caused by the cage itself, and he hoped she would not be returning again. Galenus continued his charade until the doors opened again, and another human female stepped through. She carried a small bag and wore a kind of coat. Behind her trailed three more armed guards, and they took up position around his cage. The female exchanged a few words with his jailor, and the key-bearer opened the door for her. Three armed rifles armed and red reflector sights appeared on his body. Shepard, he thought wearily. He would try best behavior again.

“Hello”, he said in turian. “Nice to meet you, human.”

She regarded him with surprise. “Hello there, turian. Galenus, I've been told. Seems like a steady fellow. Let's have a look at you.”

The words were lost on him, but her tone was soothing yet commanding, and she pointed to the bed. The red dots on his chest reminded him that he really had no option now, and sat down.

The human pointed at herself: “Karin Chakwas.”

Placing the bag on the edge of the bed, she opened it and pulled out bandages and a small bottle. He regarded it with suspicion. Who knew what they would put in him, and what it would do to him. Apparently she caught his stare, and uncorked it. She smelled it, then held it up to him to do likewise. It smelled like something a krogan would order in a bar. Probably some sort of human disinfectant. He wasn't sure if he wanted it on his body. Chakwas looked at him again. Galenus held back a shudder and decided he would take his chances with the bottle. This seemed like the response she waited for, and she started unwrapping his bandages.

 

* * *

“We haven't heard anything from Vancouver HQ for three days, and their last message was that Beijing HQ was silent. We are loosing more ground day by day.” Jonathan’s expression was grim.

“This might be our last chance to take that thing out. They can track all our launches from orbit, and so far we've not gotten one missile through the atmosphere.”

“I know. But if we're wrong, we're not only dooming the Mars auxiliary fleet to destruction, we're also causing major destruction here on earth as well. Nobody has done this before, and for good reason. Parts of earth will go dark, and nobody knows how far the nuclear EMP will travel in space.” Anderson's voice was low and fast. Hannah watched the two men in silence. Sarah took a step forward and crossed her arms.

“If we do nothing, we'll die anyway. Does it really matter if it's them or us that destroys earth? I say we follow the plan.”

Hanna sighed. “Sarah is right. We have no other plans, no other contingencies. That ship must be taken down now. We're loosing ground everywhere, and if we loose earth too, there's no place left to hide. If we can show them we're a force to be reckoned with, maybe they'll parley.”

“Big maybe,” Anderson muttered. “Too bad we can't understand what that turian is saying. Maybe we can force him to point to some weak spots on that ship.”

“No torturing prisoners!” Hannah snapped. “Enough of the griping. We're committed. Sarah and I will go back and reconnoiter the landing site. When they return and we signal you, send the message to Mars that we've brought the monstrosity down and to come to our aid. I'm hoping the EMP have dissipated or disappeared by then, but that's a risk we'll have to take. Then message all available channels to initiate Darklight. Hopefully there'll be something left down here when it's all over.”

Anderson shook his head. “Like the 4 horsemen of the Apocalypse here, with no assurance of success.”

“There are two ways of doing things, the right way, or again.” Sarah gave a determined smile. “This is one of the times there is no again. We either get this done, or we're done.”

Hannah pushed away from the wall. “It's settled. We need to get back. I doubt the turian backup team will wait more than 24 hours before they send reinforcements. Be ready.”

 

* * *

 

The elevator gears creaked and whined while the elevator was descending down the shaft. Jonathan waited while his wife checked her winter gear and pulled her mitts out of her pack. Hannah caught his gaze and sent him a reassuring smile.

“Can't say I'm happy about you leaving again.” He hugged her again.

“Just a short field trip before our victory celebration. Be back in no time.”

“I love the way you lie, you know that, right?” The cheerfulness in his voice was strained.

“Jon, I'll come back to you, I promise. And I need you here, coordinating with what remains of our forces. If any of us fail, we all fail.” She leaned her head into his neck.

“I know. Hey, Hannah.. I thought of a way to maybe talk with your prisoner.”

She looked up sharply. “You can't let him out. Not for any reason.”

“Yeah yeah, but as long as he's in the cage, we can try talking to it, right?”

She gave him a skeptical look. “Not alone. I want Anderson with you at all times when you attempt to communicate with him. And don't trust him.”

“I won't. We just have some recordings of turian speech from some vids, I just want to try.”

Hannah knew her husband to be a language and communication expert, but also having a little too much faith in the inherent goodness of people in general.

“I hope those are not the vids from the first assaults on our bases. The ones with the unmarked turians in the first recon squad. Those are not likely to get him to open up.”

“Of course not, but he's not responsible for what they did.”

“No, but that shows the amount of damage they can inflict with just their talons, and that they can behave just like rogue earth soldiers. He cannot be allowed to enter the hospital area or the sanctuary for the civilians.”

“We have things under control here, just concentrate on the mission. Dureios isn't going to insert itself.” Jonathan’s voice was warm and slightly exasperated.

She gave him a last hug and stepped on the elevator. Sarah was already there, having reluctantly freed herself from Anderson's embrace a moment earlier. They waved a last goodbye as the gears gave a metallic grinding sound and spun into life to hoist them up from the dark safety of the metro.

 

“And now we wait.” Anderson growled resentfully.

“We also have to set up everything for Darklight, and I want to have a few words with the turian.”

“The turian? Hannah OK with that?”

“Sure, she said you'd help.”

“Really?” Anderson sounded doubtful.

“Well, she said you had to be there, but it's practically the same thing.”

“Uh-huh.” The N7 wasn't too happy being dragged into Jonathan Shepard's little experiment, but it would keep his mind occupied, and perhaps even be of some help.

“All right, but we'll first set up for transmission. Then we can go play with your new toy.”

Several hours later the system was prepared for earth-wide distribution when it came, and in addition they had decided when the order to shut down came, they would close and evacuate all entrances to the metro just as a precaution against potential fallout.

“Hopefully the people we can still reach have time to respond to our message. And Mars will come.”

“Anderson, your eternal optimism is going to be the death of us all one day,” came Jonathan's irritated voice from behind the hydraulic aggregate.

“There, we're as ready as we can be. The message is automated and will repeat itself for as long this thing is running. Let's get some grub and go do important stuff.”

“The turian? Your priorities is all skewed, Shepard.”

“If we're to negotiate with them we at least need to understand a few words, like surrender and defeat.”

“Now who's the optimist?”

“Hey, I've been stuck in this dark hole for weeks sending messages while you've been out gallivanting with my wife. I'm entitled to some grumbles.”

Anderson merely shook his head again. Shepard was as relentless as his wife, though in his own way.

 

When the pair of them had eaten, they returned to the cul-de-sac and stepped inside. Doctor Chakwas was instructing two of the guards to set the last touches on the small metal fence that now surrounded the cage. Inside it, the turian was now clutching the bars and staring intently at them. He had been released from the chains, both wrists heavily bandaged. A cold feeling of dread seized Anderson, and he nearly grabbed the good doctor to shake her. Instead he closed in right behind her and hissed; “What do you think you're doing? Who the hell allowed you to free that thing.”

Karin Chakwas spun around. “He was injuring himself on that medieval contraption in the center of the cell. His arms were cut open and sepsis would probably set in if not prevented.”

“Then prevent it by other means. You two, clap the turian in chains again.” He signaled to the guards. Karin stepped in front of the fence gate.

“We're not animals, Anderson. It's not like he can get out through the bars. This fence will keep people out of reach from him, and we will not be killing a prisoner with blood poisoning.” They stepped into each others faces.

Jonathan approached them and spoke in hushed tones. “Let's not show dissent amongst ourselves in front of it. Anderson, the turian has been cooperating with us, allthough probably for his own ends. With this as a show of good will, he'll be more likely to try and talk with us. If something feels amiss later, we can always chain him back up. For now, this works in our favor.”

Both Anderson and Karin glared at him. None of them liked his proposal, each for different reasons, but finally they nodded and broke apart.

Jonathan made one guard fetch a table. He placed it inside the fence, so the turian would have a clear line of sight but far enough away that he had to stretch far beyond the bars to reach anything on it. He placed a water canteen, a small knife, bandages and other assorted items on it. The turian had stepped away from the bars and sat complacently on the bed, ignoring him. Jonathan tried to talk to it.

“Hello Galenus Vakarian." He pointed at the turian then himself; “Jonathan Shepard.”

That earned him a small look of interest, before he was soundly ignored again. Anderson gave an evil smile.

“Perhaps you have nothing that tempts him.”

“We've barely started, I didn't expect him to tell me all his secrets at once.”

“Perhaps he needs a little motivation,” Anderson continued.

“What kind of motivation are you talking about, lieutenant?” came Karin's voice from the sideline.

“Nothing too painful,” he replied and pulled the implant out of his pocket, placing it on the table.

The turian got up immediately and clutched the bars. He stared hungrily at it.

“Now you have it's attention. Make the best of it,” Anderson gloated to Jonathan.

“Thank you Anderson, shameless show-off,” he murmured, and continued his attempt to communicate with the prisoner.

 

* * *

 

Hannah and Sarah said little on the helicopter ride back to the missile silo. There was little too say that weren't mission related, and both of them used the trip back to reflect on the coming hours. Hannah felt as she was standing on the precipice of the unknown, there was no way of accurately predicting that the turians would return for this shuttle any more than they had for the previous four, but this time she had made sure the intended target could not be ignored. There was no way for the giant ship above them to know where or how many missiles hid in the ground around them, and they had to send a team to investigate. At least the previous animosities between the east and west finally benefited humanity as a whole. She made a mirthless smile. Siberia had turned out to be the coldest hellhole she'd ever been to, but the added blessing was that the enemy seemed to hate it even more. They seemed more sluggish when exposed to the cold for too long, even in heated armor. An unexpected advantage they would use to it's fullest. She glanced over at the woman beside her. A black op SEAL-trainee with no known last name, Sarah had turned out to be one of the most fearless woman Hannah had ever met. She had been on shore leave when earth was attacked, and was transferred to her crew on admiral Drescher's order shortly before Hannah's ship Resolute was destroyed in the first attack. She'd been a part of their team since then, and it was no wonder Sarah and David had found each other, each outstanding in their field.

Hannah pulled her parka hood further down her eyes. She truly hoped the turians would do what she expected them to do, as it was precisely what she'd do herself in their position.

When they arrived at the base, a small blizzard was underway. Deciding to take advantage of the weather to remain undetected, Hannah called on the base commander to get their mushers out and hook up the dogs. The wind and the falling snow would hide tracks leading back to the hidden surveillance outposts. While conducting a last check on weapons and com-system for frost damage, Sarah quietly came up beside her.

“What if they come and don't take the shuttle with them? Do we have a reserve plan for that?”

“Yes, wing it. Seriously Sarah, don't jinx us. The Dureios 5 team will make it seem as if we've tried to breach the shuttle, but unsuccessfully. I'm sure they have some sort of technology they don't want us to have in there. Hopefully they'll send one soldier back with it, or activate some sort of auto-pilot. In either case, when they take off, our last functioning radar will inform us when they're close enough for major damage. If we are lucky and don't raise suspiscion, the shuttle will be taken into the ship's hangar. Either way it'll work.”

Sarah shook her head. “Too cocksure for your own good sometimes. Glad to be on your side, Hannah Shepard.”

 

The sled ride lasted for about 30 minutes, the handlers driving the dogs to make good time. Hannah enjoyed the brisk pace and the sound of dog feet trudging in the snow. The wind was picking up, aiding their purpose of arriving and leaving unnoticed. At the hidden lookout, the two women got out of the sled and thanked the handlers, whom smiled proudly before turning the sleds about and disappeared into the snow-filled steppe again. Down in the valley the turian shuttle was covered with a layer of snow, but still visible from afar.

“I guess we wait,” Sarah shrugged and sat down, peering out if the small opening of the buried observatory. “Hopefully not too long.”

 

Several hours later a small engine hum could be heard through the snow, steadily increasing in pitch. In the dark sky above them a small aircraft approached, before decelerating and landing ungracefully on the snow-filled lake, throwing cascades of snow up behind it in its wake. It came to rest in a snow-heap on the opposite lakeside of the first shuttle, and they could hear the muffled sound of the engine powering down. Nothing happened for almost 15 minutes, then a hatch in the rear opened and several armored turians stepped out onto the snow, rifles ready and scanning the area. Hannah knew they were hidden from their small scanners as long as they stayed in the observatories. The cold didn't seem to agree with the turians. The scouts spotted the other shuttle seconds later, and gesticulated to more turians hiding inside, unwilling to leave. Hannah slowly put on a pair of night vision binoculars and sent a silent prayer to all available gods. This plan had to work.

Two turians stayed behind to guard their shuttle, and the rest scampered through the snow towards the other one. When they reached it, they took up positions around it and the turian she supposed to be the leader assayed the damage her infiltration team had done, before he punched a code into a hidden keypad. The hatch gave a metallic creak before slowly opening. The leader ordered two turians inside, weapons ready. Hopefully they wouldn't notice any changes, she thought, pulse racing in anticipation. The scouts came back out and said something to the leader. They huddled together in a small ring to discuss something, and one of the turians gave what she recognized as a salute, and went inside the shuttle again. Hannah felt a burning desire to believe in gods for the first time in her life. It would work! Beside her Sarah shifted her position and breathed out. She'd seen the same, they would send the first shuttle back, probably to try and ascertain what happened to the former crew. Now they would most likely reconnoiter the base, but the Russians had proved they could deal with one turian ground team. Hannah turned to the Russian radio-operator and nodded. He grinned widely and signaled the base to convey their success to Jonathan, and to initiate operation Darklight.

The turians continued to talk for about 20 more minutes, probably discussing how to safely approach the base unseen. They started to move back to their own shuttle for supplies and the two remaining teammates, when the leader suddenly froze and held his hand to his helmet as if receiving an incoming message. He then bellowed orders to his team and they raised their weapons and fanned out around him, while heading back to their transport. The single soldier they had left behind came running after them, leaving the shuttle open. Hannah closed her eyes in despair. They'd been made. There was no telling how right now, but somehow, something had thrown the whole plan out of the window. Sarah turned her head and gave her a concerned stare. Hannah raised her eyebrows and gave a mock sigh to the SEAL. She turned around and picked up a small device Sarah recognized as a short range jammer.

“And now we wing it.” She punched the switch on the device, and then pulled out a land-lined com unit from the wall while activating the speaker:

“ **все команды, огонь.** ”

The hills surrounding the lakes erupted in muzzle flashes and tracer rounds. Hannah pulled out her own rifle and opened fire at the turian duo guarding the shuttle. Seconds later her fire was joined by Sarah's, the latter being far more accurate then her own. One of the turians toppled over sending several rounds aimlessly up in the air before more bullets tore through his armor and sent dark liquid spraying over the snow. The other ducked behind the shuttle, returning fire from cover, before a Russian sniper on the other side of the lake took his head clean off with a well placed shot. The turians in the middle of the lake was still trying to return to the shuttle, but were drowning in incoming fire from all sides. They fired back as they retreated, never breaking formation, and Hannah observed their unavoidable defeat in admiration. “You'll only see their back once they're dead,” she commented to Sarah as the last turian fell and the hills again went silent, snow quietly falling from a cold sky.

Hannah refocused her mind. Now they needed a new plan, fast.

 

* * *

 

Galenus had suffered through the undignified medical examination with a stoic expression, accepting every push and prod the human doctor subjected him to, and it had paid off. When she'd turned her attention to his wrists, he'd made a small keening sound, pretending to pull away. The look on her face was difficult to discern, but when she finished cleaning him up, she stepped out of the cage and started arguing with the guard holding the key to his chains. The argument carried on for a good while, but the small woman finally won out. She got the keys from him, and very carefully walked back into the cage, motioning towards his hands. He was still covered in those red dots, and knew to attempt something now would be tantamount to suicide. Calmly he stretched out his arms while the doctor unlocked the chains, not moving an inch as she stepped back and out of the cage, locking it behind her. He felt a surge of satisfaction. One step closer to freedom. The key-guard and the doctor again started a discussion, and seemingly reached an accord. Two of the riflemen were sent out to get something, and that turned out to be a rail of sorts. They set it up around his prison, and he saw the reasoning behind this. As long as the humans stayed behind this rail, he couldn't reach them. They would give with one hand, take with the other. Galenus almost felt impressed by them.

The rail was almost done when Shepard's mate and the one who called himself Anderson arrived. The rail seemed to cause some friction between Anderson and the doctor, and it seemed to Galenus they nearly started to fight. Nobody stepped in another person's face unless they wanted a good brawl, but Shepard's mate intervened and calmed them down. He then started to gather a collection of things on a table outside the cage. Galenus watched with disinterest. Too many people here now to try and make an escape. The mate spoke his name, Galenus Vakarian, before introducing himself as Jonathan Shepard. Galenus smiled. He'd been right. A Shepard. He quickly lost interest again when this Shepard began lifting certain items and saying some words each time. He didn't really want to expand this vocabulary with human words, and as long as there were so many people in here, he couldn't get out anyway. The dark-skinned man appeared to laugh, and said something to Shepard, before pulling something out of his pocket. _His omni-tool._ Almost against his will Galenus got up and eyed the implant with determination. Anderson gave it to Shepard, whom placed it on the table in front of the cage. Galenus gave an annoyed sneer. Fine, he'd play along again, as long as the implant remained close by. He pointed at the knife and said “ _telum._ ” Shepard smiled while Anderson pulled on his shoulders.

 

Shepard continued to show Galenus new things for hours, writing down his replies and trying to get the turian to repeat the human words back to him. Anderson had got bored after a while and left Shepard to his latest pastime. There were only three of them in the room now, Galenus noted, himself, Shepard and the key-guard. He prayed to the spirits for inspiration to act on the right moment, if and when it arrived. A small device in Shepard's pocket suddenly buzzed, and when he pulled it out to check it, his face whitened. Galenus was surprised that humans changed color so fast. Shepard barked something at the guard, dropping the book he held in his hand and ran out the doors. The guard followed him and yelled something after him, apparently receiving a negative in return.

There was a small commotion outside, and the guard closed the door. Galenus figured he'd been instructed to remove the table, and wasn't very keen to do this alone with an unchained turian. Galenus took a step back. The humans didn't know how fast he was, and maybe he could reach the human if he got too close. The guard seemed somewhat reassured by his retreat, and took a step inside the railing. Galenus kept impassive while touching his waist as if experiencing some pain there. The guard bent over further to grab the table. A loud clank was heard, and suddenly the lights went off and was replaced by a reddish gloom. The guard was momentary disoriented and Galenus lunged forward to grabbed the guards arm, pulling him into the bars and repeatedly smashing his head in them, before he reached out with his other and and slashed the man's throat with his talons. The red blood seemed almost black on his hands. Galenus held the man while he gurgled and twitched, life slowly ebbing from his body.

When he was sure the guard was dead, he frantically searched his uniform pockets before locating a small key. Now he would show these humans they could not hide. He unlocked the cage and started searching for the implant. Turian eyes saw better in the dark then these barbarians, and Galenus soon found it, lying underneath the table. He removed the small jamming device the humans had placed on it, and quickly keyed up a message: _#_ _Ambushed. Underground Alliance base at location. Bombard. Allow hour for escape.#_ The message found an outgoing signal and affixed itself onto it, getting sent above-ground. The reply came one minute later: _#Affirmative. Location fixed. One hour.#_

Galenus pocketed the implant and grabbed the guard's bag. He knew it contained some turian ration bars, but had something else in mind. Efficiently he rolled up several blankets into small bundles and stuffed them into the bag along with the guard's belt, bandoleer and weapons. A small pistol he kept in his hand, looking at it with some interest. The humans use of metal bullets were primitive, but effective. However, he needed to get out fast, not hoard heavy ammunition to lug around. There was a sound outside the door, and Galenus hurried back to hide beside it. The first human to step through was the human doctor, and he pushed her hard onto the floor. The second was Shepard. The human seemed surprised, and it was enough time for Galenus to knock the man out with a blow to the temple, dragging him inside. No other humans seemed to be coming, and he pulled the unconscious Shepard into the cage and locked the door. He knew he should kill the man, but Shepard had not mistreated him, and Galenus would probably have more luck extracting help from his hostage if he didn't slaughter the incapacitated man.

He went over to the doctor and shook her.

“Chakwas.”

On the side of her head a bruise was developing, and he hoped he wouldn't have to carry her all the way.

“Chakwas!” His voice was more insistent now.

She rolled onto her back, and saw him towering above her. Her mouth opened to scream, and he clamped his three fingered hand on it.

“Chakwas!” This time it was a threat.

He felt her still under his hand, and reasoned she would not call out before she saw help coming. He removed his hand.

“Shepard?” She whispered.

Galenus pointed at the cage. “Shepard.”

This seemed to placate her, more so when she got up and that saw the man in the cage was breathing.

“Galenus Vakarian.” he said, and pointed to the ceiling.

She looked at him, and at his wrists. Galenus smiled. Soft hearted and a quick study. Perhaps he'd let her live if he got out. She nodded. Time was of the essence and he picked up the bag and moved towards the door. When he passed the fallen guard, his eyes caught a pair of what looked like handcuffs sticking out of his back pocket. He bent down and picked it up, stuffing it in the pocket of his undersuit. If she gave him trouble, he'd use those. Outside there was noting but silence, and he secured his grip around Karin's forearm as he hauled her along. As they stood in the cul-de-sac, he was unsure in which direction to go, and aimed the gun in her face, then upwards. She was breathing fast, but only scared, not terrified, he thought. Karin started moving towards the elevator.

There was no operator in the small room that held the levers, and Galenus cursed inwardly. He was now running out of time. Around the elevator dirt and grit had accumulated from countless loading and unloading operations, and Galenus heard footsteps in the gravel behind them. He swung around and held the doctor in front of him as a shield. In the dimly lit space he saw the contours of Anderson aiming a gun in his direction. The man was probably an excellent shot. Galenus ducked into the lever room. He held the gun in front of Karin's face, and whispered “Anderson.” Then he squeezed her arm hard. Karin yelped.

“Chakwas, are you all right?” came Anderson's voice from the dark.

“I'm fine. He knows you have a gun. I think he wants it.”

“Is Shepard alive?”

“The turian locked him in the cage. The guard is dead.” 

Anderson swore. "What does it want?”

“He wants to get to the surface.”

Galenus twisted her arm, and she cried out in pain.

“He wants the gun _now_ , Anderson.”

“Can't do that. He'll kill us both.”

"I don't think so. He could have killed Shepard. The important thing is to get him away from the hospital and the civilians. If he got in there, he could wreak an immense havoc just with his claws. He won't survive long in the cold up there anyway, and he'll be slow. Easier to take out.”

Anderson swore again.

“Can't believe I'm doing this,” he growled.

The thought of the turian with a human shield in front of him slashing his way through hundreds of people to get out was frightening, and Chakwas was right, the turian would be worse off up there in the cold. Worse still, he wasn't sure he'd win against the turian in a firefight in the dark, and with their only doctor in the middle..

“All right, I'm tossing the gun.” He threw the gun at the opening.

Galenus saw it skidding to a halt against the doorstep. He pulled the handcuffs out of his pocket and tossed it towards Anderson.

“Where the hell did it get handcuffs?” Anderson's sounded angry now.

“The guard, I think.”

Anderson muttered more words as he clapped them on. At least he knew how to pick them, so that would not save the turian from him. Galenus stepped out with Karin in front of him, and Anderson held up his hands.

“There! Satisfied, you damn big bird?” Galenus glanced over him to make sure he was cuffed, then pushed Karin aside and struck Anderson down. He fell to his knees and struggled to get up.

“Fucking coward,” he murmured before silenced by another blow. Galenus grabbed him by the leg and pulled him onto the platform. He beckoned Karin to follow. When she hesitated, he pointed his gun at Anderson. Karin felt guilty. She'd now helped him get two hostages. She followed him into the makeshift elevator.

Galenus kept his eye on the woman as he studies the engine that operated the lift. It seemed very old and mechanical. A stroke of luck, since the electricity was out on the entire base. He didn't know why, but hopefully this thing didn't require that kind of power. It seemed to have some primitive standalone batteries to start it. The wires bent in shapes they had molded into by long use, and he assembled it like that. Then he turned the switch. The engine roared into life. There were only two levers, each with a faded arrow painted behind them. One for up, one for down. He yanked the lever with the upward arrow, spun around and ran towards the elevator. The platform was already rising, and he lept up on it, landing awkwardly besides the humans. He got up and shuddered when he remembered the long descent earlier. Perhaps half the time left. He could still make it.

 

* * *

 

Hannah had called down the reserve dog team from the adjacent lookout, and it was now going back and forth between the shuttles, carrying warheads they'd hidden in the first. This time there was no room for finesse, they had to load as many as possible into this one, then someone had to activate it and take it back to the mother-ship. She studied the controls, and though they were different, there were plenty of similarities as well. Efficient simplicity, was the thing that struck her with turians. If it worked, why fix it. The steering seemed to be some kind of auto-pilot, but ricochets had torn off several panels inside, and they now had to steer manually. Perhaps the big ship could take control if they got close enough, but they would need a reason for that. Dying soldiers inside, she figured. She went outside and asked the Russian soldiers if there was some turians still alive, and got an affirmative. Two was still breathing, but only just. Hannah ordered them gathered up and carried inside the shuttle. The Russians weren't particularly gentle, and the two turians cried out in pain as they were dragged through the snow, their breaths rasping. Pretending not to hear them, she was nevertheless aware that she would hear their cries in her sleep.

Sarah came up by her side. “There's no more time before they get too suspicious. It must take off now.” Hannah stared at the warheads stacked all over the shuttle bay. “You think that's enough?”

“As long as the shuttle gets inside that thing, yes. It'll tear a hole right through the hull.”

“I hope you're right.” Hannah stepped back inside. “Thing is, the auto-pilot is gone. At least we know there's not likely to be anyone firing at it with Darklight in effect, but someone needs to get it out there.” Taking a deep breath and exhaling, she turned back to Sarah. “And that should be me. I'm the commander, it was my plan, and I'll see it through to the end.” Sarah stared at her with a surprised expression, before saluting her. “It's been an honor, mam.”

Hannah returned the salute. “Likewise.”

“And I really hope you'll forgive me for this,” Sarah continued, before she punched Hannah square in the jaw. She tumbled backwards, vision obscured by clouds. Sarah now called out several orders in perfect Russian, and two of the soldiers marched inside and picked Hannah up before dragging her outside and placing her on the dog sled.

“Sorry commander, but I have orders from admiral Drescher. If this plan fails, the Alliance need you to come up with another one. We're to keep you alive at all costs.” She gave a few more orders to the dog handler, and turned to step inside the shuttle, when she hesitated. “Commander, one last favor, tell David.. tell him my last name is Hammond. I want him to know.” Sarah Hammond then stepped inside the shuttle, closed the hatch and activated the engine, while a lone dogsled pulled away from the lake.

 

* * *

 

When the platform reached the surface, Galenus thought he would die of shock. The storeroom they had built over the entrance was empty, but it was not insulated. He tore open the bag and made an incision with his talons in the center of a blanket, before sticking his head through it and wrapping it around himself. He did the same with the other blankets, wrapping himself in to avoid freezing to death in a matter of minutes. A piece of the tarp that had covered his cage was strewn in a corner, and he grabbed that and did a final wrap before using the belt and bandoleer of the guard to fasten his ridiculous getup. The humans weren't dressed for this cold either. He opened the warehouse door slightly ajar, and saw a huge vehicle with tracks outside. Perfect for snow. Some parkas hung on the wall, and he grabbed two and tossed one to Karin. She quickly pulled it on. Anderson was still unconscious, and Galenus rolled the parka around him, then grabbed the man under the arms and started dragging him outside. Karin followed anxiously. He continued until he was standing beside the big vehicle. Karin's eyes widened when he motioned her to get into the driver's seat of the Russian snow caterpillar, but she climbed in with little hesitation. If she refused, she suspected Anderson would not live long. Galenus opened a side door and hoisted Anderson in, before half jumping, half crawling in after.

He pointed ahead. “Chakwas!” That was becoming tiresome, but she knew better than to protest. She turned the key that was luckily in the lock, and the engine roared. She shifted gears, and the vehicle lurched forward. Galenus now tapped the window, saying something in turian, but apparently the doctor understood him. She shifted gears again, and the speed picked up.

He had to get as far away as possible from the blast zone.

Some twenty minutes later Galenus and Karin saw a flash on the sky, and a resounding boom shook the ground beneath them. Karin stopped the vehicle and jumped out, staring into the dark town that was now being lit up by serial explosions that seemed to follow a network throughout the city. Her hands started to tremble when she realized that the explosions were coming from the metro system, the blast working itself up through the closed off stations from underground. The turian version of bunker busters. The embassy, the hospital, the thousands of civilians hiding in the tunnels, all gone. Even Jonathan Shepard. She fell to her knees crying, and not even the snarling turian behind her with his gun pressed against the back of her head could make her stop.

Galenus was angry. The doctor had left the now warm vehicle to watch the destruction of her hidden army, probably her friends, and he could sympathize with that, but now he was freezing again. He stepped out and pushed her with the gun. It made no impact, and she was making some strange sounds, the water coming from her eyes and turning to ice when they streamed down her face. From the vehicle he could hear Anderson waking up and struggling to get out. When his enraged face appeared in the window, he turned gray at the sight of the explosions.

“No,” he whispered, “no, no, no. It can't be.”

Galenus' omni-tool buzzed, and he opened a channel to the Belli Finem.

“Vakarian, are you there?” He recognized the voice as his staff sergeant, Cannius. “Yes sir, I managed to escape.” “Are you safe?”

“For now, but not for long. The humans will come looking, and I won't last long in this cold.” “Just sit tight, we just have to get this shuttle squared away, they've seen quite a fight, then we'll-...”

The line went dead. In the night sky one turian and two humans saw a searing flash in the sky, like a beam of sunlight directly into their eyes. There was no sound, but the following minutes saw the remaining city lights and road lamps blink out one by one, and that was somehow more terrifying than all the explosions that had gone off earlier. The world had gone dark, and only the flames that licked the city buildings illuminated the horrors they had seen.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter became way longer than I intended. I am writing this in the middle of the night, and will go through the first and second chapter tomorrow to clean them up a bit. It's a day early, but on monday it's november the seventh. Happy N7 day everyone :)


	4. Bad beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first contact war is drawing to a close, and everyone involved learns that the road to Hell is paved with good and righteous intentions.

 

_**The Citadel, two days after the destruction of the Belli Finem** _

 

Councilors Tevos and Melarn read the war report from the salarian STG. The human home-world had gone dark, and the turian dreadnought Belli Finem that was maintaining a siege of earth had either stopped sending back to the fleet or had been defeated by the humans, the latter being very unlikely. The turian councilor was nowhere to be found, and had been unreachable all day.

“The report says that captain Eridanus Fedorian is missing in action after a failed ground assault on a missile base,” Tevos commented to Melarn. “No wonder Brennius is nowhere to be seen.”

Melarn's dark eyes darted over the last pages of the document.

“Unfortunate. The primarch will not take the loss of his cousin well. If he is still alive, general Arterius will have several things to answer for.”

“And the humans? If this situation is as we fear, then they will rather destroy their own home-world rather than surrender. We do not need another Tuchanka on our hands,” Tevos said.

Melarn stood up and faced the asari woman.

“The krogans are not the issue here! They had to be contained. The matter at hand is whether the turian patrol vessels acted rashly when they opened fire and started this war! If so, then the arm of the council is now aiding in the destruction of a new species.”

Tevos frowned. “You do not think they had cause?”

“Turians are not generally an inquisitive type. They follow protocol, and their protocol if often shoot first and ask questions later. In the initial rapport they did not hail the humans at relay 314 before opening fire.” He sighed. “Turians. Ever stalwart, never changing. Too bad the ones with more agile minds is the likes of the Arterius family. If Desolas is dead, Saren will not react well.”

“He will obey the council,” Tevos reassured her colleague.

“Of course. Wouldn't dream of implying otherwise.”

Tevos thought she heard a hint of sarcasm in Melarn's reply, but it could just be the salarians usual nasal voice.

 

The door to the citadel council chamber swung open, and councilor Brennius briskly strode in. His usual confidence was obviously shaken, if his two co-councilors were to judge by the twitching of his mandibles.

“Greetings. My apologies that I have not attended our meetings until now. Much to do on the home front.”

They observed another nervous twitch.

“So it would seem,” Melarn replied. “We hear you might have, ahem, misplaced one of your dreadnoughts?”

Brennius' eyes bulged and he gripped tightly around the datapad in his hands.

“What have you heard? We haven't released that information yet.”

“We are not the public, Brennius, we do not wait to be informed by the citadel news reel,” Tevos snapped.

Melarn sat back down and folded his arms.

“The Belli Finem has not been heard from for two days. We have information indicating that a small auxiliary fleet from Mars is now orbiting earth, and so the dreadnought has either retreated or been destroyed. Both seem equally improbable.”

The turian councilor seemed like he was about to have a seizure. He opened and shut his mouth several times.

“Perhaps,” Tevos interjected, “you would like to shed some light on the situation?”

Brennius now looked defeated, and collapsed into his chair.

“It's gone. The humans managed to set off some sort of thermo nuclear device inside the Belli Finem, and it tore in half and plummeted to earth. The support fleet was severely damaged by the following electromagnetic pulse from the blast, and when human support came from Mars, they shot down almost every cruiser there. Our soldiers were sitting pyjaks.”

The turian councilor now looked like he was going to be sick.

“The primarch is furious, and is preparing for a full invasion.”

Both Tevos and Melarn rose to their feet.

“Without the support or opinion of this council?” came Tevos angry snarl.

“Young Fedorian would do well to remember that his people was the ones that started this war,” Melarn's voice joined Tevos'. “The humans were defending their home-world.”

“The primarch is determined to-” Brennius began, but was cut off by the asari.

“This council is not here to support personal vendettas for the turian primarch. If he does not desist in his plans for invading the Sol-systems, we will be forced to reconsider the turian role as peacekeepers of the council.”

“We concur.” Melarn blinked his black eyes. “The STG have heard rumors among several krogan mercenary groups to offer their services to the Alliance, merely as an excuse to war against the people whom they blame for their current state.”

“And that does not include the salarians, I suppose,” Brennius growled back.

“It does,” Melarn replied coolly, “which is why we do not want to give them a reason to bandy up to the humans in this. We need this situation to dissolve, or face a much greater threat if the two junior species join forces and wage war on all of us.”

“Precisely! If the primarch does not immediately pull back his forces from Arcturus and relay 314, we will be forced to take extreme measures. Stripping the turians of their peacekeeping duties, or perhaps start negotiations to end the volus' role as a client race for your people.” Tevos almost glowed.

Brennius now looked as tired as he felt.

“I'll relay this to the primarch. I doubt he'll receive this news with pleasure.”

“It's for the good of the galaxy, councilor Brennius,” came Melarn's glib voice.

“In your opinion I'm sure it is, Melarn. But my people will not forget that you forced them to give up this war.”

“Nor will the humans forget you attacked their home-world, so let's not compare grievances here.”

“Send a message to your primarch. We will prepare the Destiny Ascension and citadel ships from the asari and salarian squadrons, and they will leave for Arcturus, relay 314 and earth, lest some message gets lost in transmission.” Tevos interrupted.

“No more misunderstandings. We will also need our top linguists. The humans need to understand that we come in peace. I think we should bring Liara T'soni, matriarch Benezia's girl. She's here at the citadel at the moment.”

“She's barely 80, just a child,” said Brennius.

“A prodigy in linguistics, and close by. And she's not turian, that alone will help.”

“I agree with councilor Tevos, and would like to add another person to the linguistics group; Maran Solus, very esteemed family, highly intelligent, capable, and also not turian.”

“I get your meaning, esteemed colleagues.” snapped Brennius. “I will convey to the primarch that the council will be intervening, and then I'll join you on the Destiny Ascension. We turians are still a part of this triumvirate, and should participate in the peace process.”

“Yes, when you start something, you like to finish it, I suppose,” came Melarn's terse reply.

“Enough!” Tevos gave a small biotic shimmer. “We will stop a war, not start one amongst ourselves. Make yourselves ready, and we head out.”

The three glared at one another, before they swept out of the room through separate exits.

 

* * *

 

_**Siberia, three days after the destruction of the Belli Finem** _

 

“Is there nothing here that works?!” Hannah barked to the quarter master.

“We are trying,commander. The radar is, how do you say, fried? Our other transmitter has a blown out circuit board.” Her new friend had a sarcastic smile.

“We are prioritizing the air filters right now, seeing as your plan had a rather large piece of warship crash-landing a few kilometers away and is pouring smoke and who knows what else over us. The wind is carrying it this way, and fallout is such a dreadful thing.”

“Basanov, if I didn't need your help right now, I'd strangle you. You're getting on my nerves.”

“Strange, my wife keeps saying that also.”

“Big surprise,” she murmured. “Do we have anything to repair the coms with?”

“Well, we might, but the дым, the smoke, nobody wants to go outside. The opening to the stock room is at the far side of the compound, so, here we sit.”

Hannah was all to aware of that. Even though the base had gone offline during the operation, many of the electrical components that were out in the open simply ceased to work. Hours after the searing light, parts of the great ship had started to fall from the sky, and one of the larger pieces landed rather close by. There had been a flash like an orbital strike minutes before the shuttle piloted by Sarah had succeeded in taking down the mother ship, and Hannah was worried. She had no reason to believe that Starysibirsk would be a target, but seeing the direction of the strike she couldn't rule it out either. There was only one way to make sure, and apparently that way was through the smog covering the camp and into the reserve stock.

“Do you have any gas masks?”

“Yes.”

“Could you get one?”

“Yes.”

Hannah closed her eyes and counted to five. “Will you get me a gas mask?”

“Of course.” Yuri Basanov grinned. “Americans. Always so complicated.”

She tried to remember that the man was on her side, and waited for him to procure it.”

“Any particular items we need?” She fastened the mask and prepared to run.

“Just get the green striped box that says запчасти. It should all be there.”

“Let's hope so.” She opened the doors and hurried through the smoke.

 

20 minutes later Hannah returned with a green box and dumped it on the floor in front of Basanov, before tearing her mask off.

“You complete and utter _хуй_! Do you know how many green striped boxes there were in there?! A lot!”

She started coughing and realized the fallout from the ship were stuck on her clothes. He refrained from making a snide comment, instead taking her arm and pushing her into the shower room and hung a towel and new tracksuit over the door.

“It was a risk, but you made it. No fret, I will get the parts to our operators. You just get clean, or as clean as you can on the low pressure in the pipes.”

Hannah heard rustling as he picked up the box and walked off. She tore off the dirty clothes and stood under the water. It was low pressure as he said, and add to that bloody cold water, coupled with the freezing weather outside made her feel like her limbs would fall from her body. If only they could reach someone out there, someone who knew what was going on now.

The tracksuit was standard army gray and she was still a little wet from the shower when she put it on, but it felt a lot better not than wearing nothing in this cold. She pulled the hoodie over her head and went to look for Basanov.

 

“Are you sure we want to broadcast openly?” Basanov's voice had lost it's snark. “They could still be out there, and looking for survivors.”

“I know. But we have little choice. I'm hoping Mars will have answered our call for help, and that their fleet is somewhere above us, either fighting the turians or searching for signs of life.” She nodded to the operator. “Send the distress call.”

The com-system crackled and gave a small rattle, then the Alliance code signal for aid needed went out into the ether. Around the dimly lit room Hannah saw the anxious faces of soldiers forced to wait for an uncertain fate. Somewhere in the back someone said a prayer. Now all they could do was wait.

 

The message repeated over and over for the next 5 hours, and resignation started to set in among them. Hannah decided to leave and get something to eat, when a garbled voice was heard on the speakers;

“...is ...mrial.. Dres...”

Now she got to her feet, and followed the operator's hectic struggle to unscramble the message.

Basanov seemed to hold his breath.

“This is Admiral Drescher of the Second Fleet, hailing all Alliance personnel. There is a seize-fire between us and the aliens, do not engage. Repeat, do not engage.” Basanov translated to the listeners, and the whole room erupted in loud cries and yells. The tension that had lingered in the soldiers now made them boisterous, and Basanov cheerfully ordered them out of the com-room to spread the good news, and to let the operator try to hail the admiral back.

Hannah held her face in her hands as she felt an immense relief flow through her body. Almost as fast as the glow of peace came, it disappeared, and she straightened up. The fate of her husband and friends still uncertain, and she had to return to the metro.

While the operator punched in the numbers, Hannah dictated a message. “Com. H. Shepard at Siberian m.base. Requests extraction. Dureios Hippos successful.”

She drummed her fingers on the table, awaiting a reply. It came in minutes later. “Request granted. Sending extraction shuttle now.”

She turned to Basanov and gave him a tired smile. “This is it, sergeant. I'll be out of your hair shortly. Send my regards to your wife, she's an unlucky woman.”

He smiled back. “I know, and yet she keeps smiling at me when I come home. Go find your husband, commander. до свида́ния.”

“God I hope not, but sure, до свида́ния.”

They saluted each other, and Hannah made her way towards her assigned locker to find winter clothes.

 

* * *

 

“Welcome aboard the SSV Tokyo, commander. Glad to have you with us.”

Admiral Kastanie Drescher was a small woman with brown hair and a gaunt face, but her presence in the room was heavy, and Hannah rearranged her manner back to Alliance standard.

“Thank you, ma’am. I'm grateful for the pick up.”

The admiral waved her hand to show it was of no import. “You've made quite the splash in galactic politics, let me tell you. And nearly ruined earth at the same time. Remind me not to need the help of a Shepard again. You cost too much.”

Hannah wasn't entirely sure if the admiral was joking, and what she said was true, the cost had been great. While she was searching for an answer, the admiral interrupted her thoughts.

“Relax, commander. Your actions, though drastic, made a break-through in our diplomatic relations with the galactic community. There are apparently more alien races out there, and not all of them are like the warmongering turians. The council, I think they are called, have intervened in the war and called for a truce. We have a little trouble communicating with them at the moment, but a “committee” have been set up to deal with that. A little too blue and horned for my taste, but beggars cannot be choosers.” She smiled.

Hannah's head spun at all this. Desperately searching for a stabilizing element, she asked the only thing she could think of.

“Have you heard from any other Alliance people?”

The admiral went silent for a moment while watching her, then beckoned her to follow her into a conference room. Hannah felt a sense of dread. This would not be good news.

“I know why you ask that, commander, and yes, we have. That was the first place we looked for survivors, seeing as it was the last place the dreadnought attacked.”

“Dreadnought?”

“Yes, that's what they call that class of ship. The council seemed astonished that we managed to take one down.”

Hannah now caught the last part of that sentence.

“Attacked?”

“Commander.. The dreadnought Belli Finem apparently got a message from a captured turian that the metro system of Starysibirsk was an Alliance station. They deployed a bomb designed for eradicating underground enemy bases. I'm afraid almost half of the tunnels have been destroyed or collapsed.”

Hannah felt feint, and started swaying on her feet.

“We have found some survivors, among them one David Anderson and Karin Chakwas. They have confirmed that your husband was still in the tunnels when the bomb hit. I'm sorry.”

Admiral Drescher's words sounded like a faraway whisper, and Hannah almost fell into a seat. Weeks of stress, loss and now this final blow, it was all becoming too much. She hid her face in her hands and cried.

Kastanie Drescher said nothing for a while, then have Hannah's shoulder a short comforting pat before leaving the other woman to grieve. The admiral too had known such loss, and knew that any more words of consolation right now would be patronizing.

 

When admiral Drescher stepped outside the conference room she was met by Anderson, whom was hovering outside the door.

“How is she? Did she say anything about Sarah?”

“Lieutenant, I think your commander will need a moment alone. I've just informed her about her husband. And no, she didn't mention operative Sarah, but the fact that she's not here speaks volumes.”

Anderson jerked his head at this and looked quizzically at the admiral. She sighed.

“Look, you might as well hear it from me. Sarah was under my orders to keep commander Shepard alive at all costs while completing the mission. We needed Shepard to come up with another plan if the first failed. If at any time there was a risk to Shepard, Sarah was to assume her place.” She paused. “I suspect Sarah had something to do with the explosion inside the dreadnought, but only Shepard truly knows. Give her some time, then you can go inside and ask.”

 

Admiral Drescher nodded to Anderson and left him there. His jaw clenched and he leaned his forehead against the wall. Around him the crew passed him by without staring too much, probably the orders of the admiral. For twenty minutes he stood there, waiting and willing the worst not to have happened, then he requested entry. Hannah answered in a low voice. She got up when he walked inside, and her red face told of earlier moments of grief. Without saying anything, she merely walked up and hugged him. Anderson breathed heavily.

“Sarah, is she..?”

“She's gone.” Hannah broke the embrace. “The shuttle auto-pilot was blown out in a firefight. We needed someone to take it out. I was going to, but Sarah had other plans.” She pointed to her face, where some bruising still lingered.

Anderson smiled sadly. “She always had a mean right.”

“David, I did not order her to go. I would have done it myself, but..”

“I know. The admiral told me her orders.” He looked away.

“Before she left, Sarah asked me to tell you her name. It's Sarah Hammond. She wanted you to know.”

He remained silent, and Hannah didn't push. She knew his feeling of loss. For a while they both sat in silence, trapped in their own thoughts. It was Anderson that spoke first.

 

“She told you about Jonathan?”

“Yes. He was still in the tunnels. Didn't make it out.”

He hesitated, but if things were different, he would have wanted to know the truth from a friend.

“You probably know it was our captured turian that signaled the dreadnought. He got loose after doctor Chakwas took his chains off. They were chafing and making him bleed.”

Hannah made a sad scoffing sound.

“She was always too kindhearted. He probably made those wounds herself. How is she holding up?”

There was no anger in her voice, and Anderson was a little surprised at this. He'd been furious with the doctor, but Hannah seemed to feel different.

“About as you'd expect. Not well. She feels responsible for the deaths he caused. I'm inclined to agree with her.”

“No!” Hannah snapped. “The fault is mine. Jon, the remains of my crew, the people in the metro, all dead, because I insisted on treating that, that.. parrot like a prisoner of war. You were right, I should have left him to be dissected, or left him bleeding in the snow where I found him!”

“Hannah..”

“Thousands dead so he might live! Tell me I made the right choice! Dare say that to my face!” She felt her voice give out, cut herself off before it could betray her. Anderson waited for her to compose herself.

“Jon will never see his child. Never hold, or hug, or hear any first words.”

Tears fell quietly from her eyes.

“I took that away from him. For the sake of doing the _right thing,_ if there is such a term in war.”

After a long while, Shepard wiped her eyes and got up, face hardening.

“We should see the admiral. I want to have a few words with that turian.”

 

* * *

 

“Commander Shepard, this is the way of things now.” Admiral Drescher sounded irritated.

“Turians cannot be trusted.”

“I agree with the commander,” said Anderson

The admiral turned to him. “We can't afford more war now. We were almost defeated.”

“We're on our knees now, but we'll rise again.” Hanna’s voice was calm and cold. “And when they come at us next time, the turians will know we learned our lesson well.”

“That talk might jeopardize the peace treaty, and you wanting to see the turian responsible for your husbands death certainly will.”

“I know he's on this ship, admiral. He was picked up with Anderson and Chakwas.” Hannah was angry.

“He _was_ on this ship. I had him transferred to one of the council ships. Prisoner exchange was part of the agreement we have understood this far.” 

Hannah clenched her fists and said nothing. Drescher had hoped the commander would be a part of the peace talks, as she had a reputation for keeping a clear head when others did not, but in view of the latest developments that was not a good idea.

“I know this is not what you wanted, but nevertheless, you are to be congratulated, commander. Your plan forced their government to intervene, and now we have a truce between us and the the turians. If I'm not much mistaken, you will be promoted to captain after this.”

Hannah seemed not to hear this.

“They are not to be trusted,” she repeated as if to herself, then with a last withering stare at the admiral, she left the room.

 

* * *

 

_**Destiny Ascension, six days after the destruction of the Belli Finem** _

 

“That is everything that happened, it's all written down in my report.”

Galenus Vakarian gave his councilor a tired look. He'd been interrogated since he got on-board the Citadel flagship, and wanted nothing more than a safe night's sleep away from enemies likely to murder him in his sleep. Councilor Brennius gave him an appraising stare that implied that he knew more than he was letting on.

“Almost everything, but there is somewhat of a sticking point here. The destruction of the so-called base has been classified by the humans as a war crime.”

Galenus gave a disdainful scoff. “They were conducting warfare from that tunnel. There was crates with their Alliance's sigil on them, armed personnel and military vehicles around the entrances.”

“Technically, yes, if sending messages and planning is defined as such. Unfortunately, they also had a hospital and several shelters for civilians down there. The death toll is now 15 493 and counting. The underground sections become closed off and separate entities when they are at war, but the ones closest to impact couldn’t withstand the blast. There is still silence from several of them.” Brennius studied Galenus' reaction.

Galenus Vakarian froze in his seat, disbelief written on his face. This could not be true. The crates, the presence of Anderson and Shepard was no coincidence, and his own feeling of danger, like the one he had before those animals blew up his squad. There was no way he'd been wrong. His instinct had told him he was making the right call, he was dead certain. Galenus felt Brennius' eyes on him, and knew that he was observed. Unwelcome words started forcing their way into his head. Hospital. Civilians. The sick. The injured.  Females. Children. Old. If the councilor's words were true, he’d killed them all. A sneaking feeling of doubt crept into his mind. His gut feeling had told him that the human underground base was military, but the crates he’d seen could theoretically have contained hospital supplies. Food. Bandages. Blankets. When he escaped, he hadn't checked before leaving the area. There was no time, he told himself. Images of small burning humans screaming down in the dark before bursting into flames filled his head, and he sagged in his chair, clutching is face in his hands.

“I didn’t know. I swear, I’d never.. a hospital.. spirits.. I DIDN’T KNOW!” He shouted the last words and jumped to his feet, staring desperately at councilor Brennius.

The councilor sighed. “I believe you, but the humans are insisting. We will not extradite you, but it would be better if we could say we’ve discharged you from the army. The council demands peace, and they consider you a small price to pay.”

“So I’ll be sacrificed?” Galenus’ emotions swung wildly between guilt and indignation.

“Be reasonable, corporal  Vakarian. We won’t throw you out of the military on a dishonorable discharge, but according to your files you want to work in Citadel security. We can simply make that transition a little faster, and the humans will, well.. not exactly be happy, but they’ll know this is as far as we’ll go. They were hiding soldiers among civilians themselves, so they can’t push too far. They must be seen doing something, however. Charred remains of females and children looks bad on any news-feed, if and when they get their planet back online.”

Galenus struggled to keep a keen out of his subvocals. Realization was setting in, and it was almost as if thousands of dead human eyes were staring blankly at him with cold accusation, and he wanted to shout back into their faces that he wasn’t alone at fault. It was war! People died everywhere, his team had been blown apart in a mine field, friends of his had been shot down at relay 314, it wasn’t as if- _th_ _ey burned in an underground inferno he called down. 15 493 and counting._ He jerked up and forced the intruding thought away, trying to control his emotions. Even here, in the warm office of the turian councilor, he now felt cold, as if the biting cold of the human world could follow him here. His plates felt like they were covered in ice, and the softer skin in between started to contract and ripple to help warm him up while his hands firmly gripped the  councilors desk as he felt the room start to spin.

Brennius watched the younger man struggle to keep his composure, and how he subconsciously kept scratching his talons over the metal table. To the councilor the signs were clear.  For all intents and purposes Vakarian was having a breakdown. Even if the Alliance weren’t making a fuss over that particular bombing, the man would be better off serving the Hierarchy in some other capacity than the fleet. It would be better to send the man back to his family on forced leave, then enroll him in the C-sec training program. There were rumors that the human behind the fall of the Belli Finem blamed Vakarian for the death of her mate, and it would be better for all of them if she wasn't expecting to meet him on every turian ship she encountered when her new ship was ready. Brennius was impressed by how much information the STG managed to come by a mere few days after meeting with the humans, but this piece of information gave him no comfort. The Alliance was planning on promoting commander Shepard to captain and assign her a new ship as soon as one was available. For her services she'd been allowed to name it herself. It was to be called the SSV Vengeance.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prologue is nearing an end, and the next chapter will probably contain some time leaps to get to where we're going. More familiar faces will show up, and not all of them pleasant. I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes, as I still do everything on my own. Stay tuned :)


	5. Times are a-changing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of things will change in 15 years, and a lot won't. Some lives will begin, and others will cling to the past.

 

**_Palaven 2159 CE, Fedorian Memorial_ **

Galenus stood quietly in the gray corridor while patients and orderlies past him by. The doctor had told him to wait outside while his wife was in for her examination, and he passed the time watching the newsfeed from the Citadel. There had been another border skirmish between a turian patrol and some human mercenary groups, and things got really complicated when the SSV Vengeance came to investigate the situation. There had been a disagreement between the two captains on the ships over how to resolve the problem, and shots had been fired. The council had set down a team of investigators from the STG, but Galenus had little hope of a positive outcome. Whatever had sparked the shooting would be covered up and the mistrust would only increase on both sides. As a rookie in C-sec, he'd heard the rumors that batarians and some barefaced turians were looking to join up with these human mercs, as they were extremely ruthless and could hide in Alliance space as long as the turian patrols were not allowed to cross into human territory. Credits seemed to be the only thing that could unite the different species under one banner, he thought with a sigh. The examination room swung open, and the doctor waved him in with a smile.

“Officer Vakarian, come in. Your wife has something to tell you, should you wish to know it.”

He nodded to them both and left them alone. Galenus took his wife's hand.

“Well? Which is it?”

Vistilla gave him a mischievous smile, and pulled his hand to her stomach.

“Are you sure you want to know? Some people like to be surprised, you know.”

“Not me. I like to be prepared, and this will be the greatest challenge of my life.”

Vistilla merely watched him stroke her belly and gently hummed her subvocals. He gave a small laugh.

“Vistilla, my love, don't tease. I will go fetch the doctor if you don't tell me.”

“What do you want?” she asked lightly.

“One of each, so you better get working,” he smiled.

“Hah! Greedy man. But you're halfway there.”

His eager expression softened her desire to play around any longer.

“It's a boy.”

Galenus  felt his child kick against the palm of his hand. A son. An heir to the line of Vakarian. He felt his hearth bursting with joy, and at the same time weighed down with dread for the future. His boy would be born into a seemingly endless conflict with the humans. If there was no permanent peace, his son would most likely join the war as he himself had. Galenus leaned closer to his wife and their foreheads joined. The conflicting emotions hummed through his subvocals, and his mate put her hand around his neck to stroke the back of his fringe.

“I know," she thrummed back. "But the negotiations are going well.”

“They always are, before some border skirmish or raiders foil our efforts.”

His wife gave him a warm smile.

“Nobody wants this to continue, not even the humans.”

“Right. Tell that to Hannah Shepard,” he spat bitterly.

“Captain Shepard has cause to be angry with you. She saved your life and you got her mate killed, along with many of her crew. But even she must want a safer world for her daughter.”

In Galenus' head appeared the image of Jonathan Shepard touching his wife's belly in a stolen moment, much like this. The memory was almost painful.

“I know. But her safe world is free of turians.”

The vid from the news reel of the SSV Vengeance firing all forward batteries at the turian cruiser came into his mind, and he went silent.

“Galenus, don't. Don't torture yourself.” Vistilla's voice was sad.

“I know what you did on earth, I know you would undo it if you could, but you must leave those ghosts in the past. Do right by making the world better now, for us, for our son.”

“The humans will never forgive me.”

“Do not seek forgiveness then, but redemption through action. Save lives, be just, do right.”

She smiled again.

“And be a good husband to your suffering wife, for being lumbered with such a husband.”

“You almost had me there, Vistilla.” He stroked her fringe.

“I'll always have you, Galenus Vakarian.”

She rose from the bed and wrapped her arms around his cowl.

“The humans can't hate us forever.”

 

* * *

 

**_2165 CE - Arcturus Station Hospital 08:00 AM_ **

 

Anderson woke with a start as his breakfast tray hit the roof with a clang. Seconds later cutlery rained from above, and only a solitary white hospital mug still soared in the air. A pair of guilty gray eyes belonging to his young guest peeked shyly at him.

“Sorry, uncle David.”

The airborne mug was starting to wobble, and the big krogan that accompanied Jane Shepard grabbed it and set it down on the night stand.

“Too much Shep, I told you, one thing at the time. Now you nearly killed your infirm and invalid uncle.”

Anderson felt annoyed at the krogan's rudeness, but Jane looked shocked.

She took a step back and her wide horrified eyes flicked between Anderson and the scar-faced krogan.

“I remember what you said, I just... They felt so light, they just flew up. Don't be angry Wrex.”

Wrex the krogan chuffed a laugh at the squirming girl in front of him. The contrast between the hulking alien and the little girl made Anderson uneasy. The use of krogan mercenaries as bodyguards for Jane had been out of the things he argued with Hannah about, but she was adamant and somewhat paranoid. She partly picked krogan guards as they had little love for turians, and would in her opinion be less susceptible to bribes. This particular krogan was a biotic, and Jane had taken to him immediately. She seemed oblivious to the fact that he was capable of killing anything or anyone for a price, and followed him around like a puppy when he was on guard duty. Equally strange was the fact that the krogan seemed to bask in her admiration.

“Listen Shep, one day you'll be ready to lift more than one thing. That ain't today. Got me?”

“Gotcha, Wrex,” she beamed at him.

“Good little pyjak.”

“You shouldn't teach her to speak that way,”Anderson said reproachfully to the krogan.

“Really? My language is the worst thing I can teach her? No wonder that Cynthia female split on you. Prudish human.”

Anderson gritted his teeth and turned his attention back to Jane.

“Hey kid. Your mom not here yet?”

Jane quickly glanced up at the Wrex, then turned her eyes down again.

“She's talking with some grown-ups about things children doesn't understand,” she said as if repeating an often heard line.

That almost made Anderson laugh, and he told the krogan to leave the two of them be while they waited. Wrex merely gave a scoff, walked outside and stood guard on the other side of the door.

“All right kid, spill, what do you know?” Anderson said playfully.

“The reporters are talking to mom about the bad turian, but I didn't hear everything.”

“Bad turian?” Anderson sat up and looked around for the projector controller.

“Mhm, the turian that hurt you, his brother was on the ship that killed dad. Mom is very angry.”

“I bet she is,” Anderson mumbled. It was probably a bad idea to let Jane watch that news feed, but he had to know what happened.

The screen blinked, and the image of Hannah Shepard mobbed by several journalist was accompanied by a small frame-in-frame image of the SSV Vengeance in dry-dock, being overhauled after taking severe damage. Jane's hand crept over the blanket and gripped his. It was too soon for the girl to know about shield damage and hull breaches, but spacer kids seemed to learn about that through osmosis. Anderson gave her a fast smile before turning the sound on.

 

“Captain Shepard? Captain Shepard, what's your opinion of humanity's failure to get a candidate into the council Specters?”

“It was an unfortunate situation, and I'm just glad we got our man back.” Hannah's face revealed no emotions when she answered, and the new wound on her neck was almost hidden by the high collar of the uniform.

“Captain Shepard, regarding your latest engagement with a ship breaching our borders, they say a council Spectre named Saren Arterius was in pursuit of human smugglers in a new group called the Blue Suns, would you comment on that?”

Surrounded by the aggressive pack of cameramen and microphones, Hannah looked all wide eyed innocent when she answered.

“It is very unfortunate that humanity does not have their own Spectre candidate to confirm or deny such allegations. I'm positively sure no one aboard the ship we encountered announced themselves as a Spectre. One turian looks much like the next, I'm afraid.” There was a small chuckle among the journalists, but Anderson frowned. ' _Careful, Hannah_ ,' he thought.

In the back of the crowd, another journalist practically shouted to make his voice heard over the rest: “Are we to believe that you of all people wouldn't recognize Saren Arterius, brother of Desolas Arterius, the turian that attacked earth? And, your detractors say that your latest skirmish with Arterius is nothing more than a grudge match between to feuding families. And furthermore, what do you say to the allegations that the rumors of your upcoming promotion is a blatant provocation of the turian Hierarchy at a critical moment of our negotiations??”

There was a hush in the crowd, but Hannah's face displayed nothing but icy civility.

“My my, those are quite a lot of questions, rumors and speculations, mister.”

She gave a detached smile. Anderson closed his eyes and just knew this would be a political incident.

“If Saren Arterius was indeed involved in this little tiff, I'm sure he'll get his mandibles clicking at the council to make a formal complaint in no time,” she said with a dark undertone.

“Until we know for certain that he was involved, let's keep those accusations of a vendetta under wraps, good sir. Now, as for the negotiations, there are always negotiations, and so far very little has come-..”

_Click!_

Anderson shut the screen off. There was no doubt in his mind that Saren had been involved somehow, and that Hannah had managed to injure the turian, by the things she didn't say on live broadcast. Beside him Jane stared intently at him, and he forced a smile.

“Nothing to worry about, kid. Your mom always makes it back.” For now at least, he almost said aloud, but cut himself off when Jane beamed at him.

The smile disappeared as fast as it came.

“Do you think mom would be happy if all the turians were dead?”

Anderson was stunned.

“No! Nothing like that will make your mother happy again, and your father wouldn't wish it. He had a kind heart. Even for aliens.”

“Mom does not?”

“Your mother is..very sad. She works to hard, she hides it, but the only thing that makes her smile is you. Not dead turians.”

“I'll work hard too. Look!”

Jane's hands glowed blue and the hospital bed lifted a few centimeters above the ground. It felt like time was standing still and Anderson prayed he would not get slammed into the roof as the tray had been earlier. Jane held it up for a few seconds until sweat formed on her brow, then it dropped back on the floor with a clatter and squeak of rubber wheels. He exhaled slowly, and kept his face neutral.

“That was.. not bad.”

“Sorry. When I'm bigger, I can lift much longer.”

Her voice sounded tired, and Anderson called for the krogan to take her back to Hannah's place. He needed to talk to her mother alone, the situation with Saren had only escalated after his failed Spectre-assessment.

 

* * *

 

**_Third Citadel peace conference, 16 th August , 2166 CE - Early morning_ **

 Wreav stomped down the hallway like a man possessed, while people almost ran aside to avoid getting rammed by the advancing krogan. Behind him he heard the light jog of his charge struggling to keep pace. Shep never said anything when he was in a mood, just obediently followed him and stayed by his side. This annoyed him even more right now. He was itching in his shell for some kind of fight, and being stuck as the babysitter today was not high on his wish list. While the different dignitaries from the human and turian world was assembled in the embassies to discuss a permanent truce, the children of said dignitaries would come together in a show of reconciliation and future and love and peace and some other worthless crap, and Wreav fumed. He and Wrex had butted heads for the position of heavily armed guard for the admiral, and he lost. Wrex had certainly cheated, Wreav thought and flashed his teeth at a passing turian, who almost fled at the sight. And here he was, among the high and mighty people whom were responsible for his own species' downfall. He would be damned if he couldn't cause some sort of problem today, didn't matter who for. Shep stood beside him in a miniature Alliance dress suit. The admiral had forbidden name tags, but unless these folks were extremely stupid, and Wreav couldn't rule it out, any small kid with a krogan bodyguard would be singled out as Hannah Shepard's daughter. Right now she was staring wide eyed at the other children there, some asari, some turian children still too young for colony marks, at least three small drells and one salarian kid that had a whole retinue of guards. _No krogan children though._ Wreav tried to ignore the stab of loss in his chest. This was not the time. The caterers were bringing foodstuffs and placing it on several lined tables, and he gave Shep a small push.

“Hey you, go find yourself something to eat.” He nodded towards the tables.

There were a few other human children in the queue, but she hesitated and gave him a pleading look. “Not a chance, I'm no nursemaid. Now get some food. While you're at it, bring me some too.”

That seemed to help, she now had a mission. Wreav watched as she headed straight for the table with the cold meats on it, and grinned. His favorite. The kid was all right, for a human.

 

A second wave of ambassadorial offspring were sidling into the fenced off area, and these were older and mostly human, Wreav guessed they were a few years older than Shep. Two boys stood out with expensive official clothes and finery, and after they glanced at his polished but well worn battle armor they sneered at him. Most of these humans had probably never been this close to a krogan in their life, and knew next to nothing about their physical capabilities. Exceptional hearing being one, Wreav overheard the boys calling him a lizard-brain and crocco-face. He recognized the slurs, and felt elated. Here was his trouble. Too bad he couldn't be the one to start anything, or Wrex would wring his quad off. Those brats were unlikely to behave all afternoon, however, and he only needed to pick his moment. Behind him he heard Shep's proud voice announce that she'd found some food, and held out a large plate with meat and earth sea food for him. _Diplomatic immunity_ , a small voice whispered in his head, and he gave her a sly toothy smile.

“Very good Shep. Now how about you and me keep an eye out for bad-guys, hmm?”

“Yeah! We can be like Blasto, and his krogan sidekick Brov.”

Wreav narrowed his eyes and studied her face for a hint of sarcasm, then sighed when he saw nothing but childlike enthusiasm. He grabbed the plate held out to him and swallowed a shrimp.

“Sure, Shep, just like that. Let's be ready for anything.”

 

After the holo-images of a row of obedient, saintly children had been captured by a professional, if rather high strung hanar holographer, Wreav took Shep with him to the skycar platform above the reception area. This afforded them a great view over the guests, and he quickly spotted the gaudily dressed brats from earlier. They were sneaking up on a small silver plated turian kid that had left or separated from his group. Standing on the bridge connecting to the financial district, he seemed to study the top of the presidium through what appeared like a detached rifle scope, and Wreav knew this to be his moment.

“Look over there, Shep.” He pointed. “Trouble.”

She followed his gaze and saw the two older boys approach the little turian.

“Are we gonna help?” There was a slight worry in her voice.

“Oh, I can't, not when they're tiny humans, but you can.” he assured her with a insidious smile.

“They are older then me, and Wrex says I can't use biotics in public. Besides, he's a turian. He doesn't like humans anyway.” She gave him a puzzled look.

Wrex had certainly worked magic for this stubborn kid to be so obedient, Wreav thought, but he had an ace in the shell.

“Nobody's saying something will happen, Shep, but somebody should be there just in case. And I know your father was the kind of man that always did the right thing, even for aliens. Don't you wanna be like him?”

Shep had a decidedly worried expression on her face now, and he almost felt guilty. Almost.

“Go ahead, I'll keep an eye out.”

She clenched her jaw and stared straight ahead. “Like my dad. For mom.”she said and marched off.

Wreav figured that gullibility must come from the father, as there was none of it in the admiral. He leaned on the railings and awaited the show.

 

“Look at that, a bird doing bird watching.”

Garrus Vakarian spun around to see two human boys circling around him, one quite a bit taller than the other. He took a step back and craned his neck to check if his mother was near, but she was nowhere to be seen. The boys strayed even closer.

“No gun, just a scope. How are you gonna kill any of us with that,” one of the boys laughed.

“I wasn't going to hurt anyone, I just...” he began, but was cut off by a push to the chest and stumbled back.

“No wings, no feathers, no balance. And no scope.” The taller boy snatched the scope from Garrus.

“No! Please, it's from my dad!” Garrus' voice almost trilled.

“Your dad has a gun, has he? A human killer, is he?” the smaller boy demanded.

Garrus said nothing and looked down. It was supposed to be a family secret, but he knew his dad had been a soldier in the war. He'd done something very bad, and sometimes talked to mom about it when he had too much to drink. It happened rarely, but he knew. And these humans could not know.

“My dad is a policeman.” he said out loud.

“Your dad is probably a spy,” the tall boy said and looked at Garrus through the scope. “And that's why you're here. You're his little minion, trying to find secrets and ruin the peace talks.”

“I'm not!” Garrus said hotly.

“Look, he's not even painted,” the taller boy said, “barefaced, I think they call that.”

Garrus felt his neck flush at the insult, and tried to growl, but his second voice-box wasn't fully developed yet, and it sounded like a mix between a yowl and something stuck in his throat. They laughed at this, and Garrus jumped forward, talons out to swipe at the boy holding his scope. The boy yelped, and three red gashes appeared on his arm. His face contorted with anger.

“The bird attacked me. You saw it,” he said to his companion.

“I did. Best we drown it before it hurts someone else.”

They stepped closer to him.

Garrus gasped and glanced at the presidium lake. Turians in general didn't swim well, and he didn't swim at all. He started backing away, trying to find an escape.

“Throw yourself in, save me the trouble,” a small voice said behind them. Garrus glanced passed the boys, and saw a human girl in a blue suit with short cropped hair standing there with her arms crossed. She seemed a lot smaller then her compatriots, and practically minute compared to the krogan he could see on the balcony in the distance.

“Back off, short-stuff. We're teaching the bird a lesson.”

The small boy waved his fist in her face, and to Garrus' surprise she seemed unperturbed.

“Give me the scope,” she demanded.

Garrus felt confused. Was she going to steal from him as well?

“Make me,” the taller boy said holding the scope in the air.

The girl glanced over her shoulder, and it seemed to Garrus as if she was watching the krogan. She turned back with a huge smile and said “Okay,” then slammed the shorter boy with a biotic blast that propelled him backwards, slamming him into the rail. The momentum made him topple over and into the lake. The splash caused some of the other guests to startle. The girl saw their reaction and grimaced. She kept her hand glowing and turned to the other boy.

“The scope, gimme! Hurry up!”

He carefully reached out his hand and dropped it into hers, before he turned on his heels and ran. The girl turned to Garrus and held out the scope to him.

“Here.”

He stared into her gray eyes, waited for an insult or an ambush. None came.

“Go on, it's yours.”she grinned at him. “I gotta bail, not supposed to do that to other kids.”

She pushed the scope into his talons and made a break for it. She made as far as the C-sec elevator, before the boy that got away appeared with a guard. The boy pointed at her, and she was snatched up while the guard shouted something at her. There was more commotion among the guests as the krogan Garrus had seen on the balcony charged through the crowd, almost trampling people in his path, and clamped a huge three-fingered hand on the guards shoulder. He swung the man around and growled in his face. Garrus almost felt envious of that growl. Now that was a sound to frighten your enemies. Next to him his mother appeared with Solana on her arm, took his hand and pulled him away.

“Let's go Garrus, that human girl is causing quite the stir, and that krogan looks like trouble enough for ten guards.”

He let himself get led away, but tried to turn sideways to glance at the strange girl who'd saved his father's early marking day present for him. She was kicking the guard on the shin and screaming bloody murder, while the krogan almost lifted the poor man off the ground. Garrus flared his mandibles in a smile. They passed over the bridge as some human men dived into the lake to save the boy screaming in the water. Garrus listened to the boy's cries as a very un-turian sense of smugness filled him. His father would not approve, he knew, but Garrus felt the scope thief got what he deserved. Too bad he never asked the girl's name, she seemed nice. For a human, he added as an afterthought.

 

* * *

 

**_Third Citadel peace conference, 16 th August, 2166 CE – Anderson's apartment - 22:00 PM_ **

 “Will you calm down, Hannah. You have only yourself to blame for this. Krogans are notoriously difficult to reason with, and Wreav is a loose cannon on deck. Be thankful it wasn't worse.”

Anderson took a sip of his whiskey and pretended to read some shipping manifest. Thankfully the admiral had simmered down since yelling at the two krogan brothers, and Jane had been sent to her room after refusing to implicate Wreav in the morning disaster. The krogan seemed too satisfied with the situation to dispel their suspicions, but Jane refused to say he'd masterminded the thing, and so she was grounded.

“Calm down? Really? You do know who those two boys are?” Hannah snapped at him.

“Some politician's kids, I guess. They weren't seriously hurt, and at least Jane's actions, foolish as they appear, might have prevented a uproar among the turians. If some humans had hurt a turian kid at that Future for peace-thing, it would have complicated the peace talks.”

It had been a long day for both of them. Pretending to make nice with people they'd been trying to kill for years was taking its toll, and it was only the first day. At least Saren Arterius was not on the Citadel, but Anderson knew that Galenus Vakarian was a lead detective in C-sec, and currently on the space station. The last time they had been face to face was in a burned down building in Starysibirsk, awaiting an uncertain fate. Hannah knew as well, and it was driving her a little crazy.

“The two boys,” she interrupted his train of thought, “was the nephewes of Donnel Udina.”

“What? Oh crap,” he said, taking another swig.

“Crap is the correct phrase, yes. He won't forget something like this, even if Jane is only a child.”

“Surely the man is not that resentful? He might not like you but..”

“He doesn't like anything that impedes his career or family standing.” Hannah sighed and poured herself a drink as well. The top button in her dress suit felt like it was strangling her, and she popped it open. “Gods. And tomorrow there's more of this. It's much easier just to shoot them.”

Anderson gave a mirthless chuckle.

“Yes, and that's why you're not part of the main negotiations, just here to make nice. The Orizaba sounds much nicer than the Vengeance.”

“Sometimes I think they really did promote me to rear admiral to get me off that ship.” Hannah gave Anderson a knowing glance. He coughed, and pretended not to smile.

“It's not that they don't have faith in your abilities, Hannah, but you going toe to talons with the turians every chance you got didn't help things for the Council. Now you have a higher rank but a toned-down profile.”

“Politics,” she said with disgust.

“Be reasonable, Hannah. You've done your part, now we must think of the future.”

“A future where my daughter helps turians? How lovely..”

There was no way around the next part of this conversation, but he knew it was better it came from him.

“About that, did I mention who that turian kid was?”

“Nope.” She took another sip. “Don't see why it's important. He's a kid, he was saved from bullies, he went home. End of story.”

Anderson forced a laugh. “If only. The kid's name is Garrus Vakarian.”

He saw her body stiffen, and expected the worst. Instead, she went completely silent for several minutes, before he saw her relaxing and lowering her shoulders, exhaling deeply.

“Well, how lucky for him. Another Vakarian saved by a Shepard. Wonder what that's gonna cost us.”

The sarcasm was dripping from every syllable. The venom that seeped through her voice unnerved him, not because it shocked him, but that is was so familiar. 9 years had not made him forget Sarah Hammond, and that cost him a marriage. The image of Jonathan Shepard dead in a blazing tunnel had kept Hannah in a constant state of rage for years, but now was the time for both of them to lay old grievances to rest.

“Hannah, he was just a boy that Jane wanted to help. She's much like Jonathan in that regard.”

“Yes she is, and being like Jonathan will get _her_ killed as well.”

“That's not a good thing to teach Jane. Humans and turians must learn to accept the past and move on.”

The withering glare she have him would have cowed a weaker man.

“Do not tell me how to raise my child.”

They stared at each other, both unwilling to yield to the others reasoning. To his surprise, Hannah broke eye contact first.  
“Clan Vakarian is bad news, and I won't have Jane consorting with them in any way. Even Saren would be preferable to that.”

“Galenus Vakarian has become a respected member of Citadel Security. You can't do anything about that,” he said. “We all need this peace. Please don't do anything to derail that.”

“I won't. But Jane will know where her loyalties lie,” she said with a sneer. Hannah knocked back the rest of her drink and walked upstairs to find her daughter. Anderson slowly spun the whiskey glass around in his hand with a sinking feeling that she had missed his point entirely.

 

* * *

 

_**Third Citadel peace conference, August 16th, 2166 CE – Vakarian household 22:00 PM** _

 “It was beyond foolish, Vistilla!”

Galenus was clenching and unclenching his talons, a sure sign he was more upset than angry, his wife noted to herself. After having a rather strange family dinner, with both parents putting on forced smiles and pretending nothing unusual had happened, Garrus and Solana was finally coaxed into bed, and Vistilla knew her husband would have some words about the mornings events. She loved Galenus, but sometimes he was very overprotective.

“There was some disturbance, yes, but what did they expect with so many children around.”

“You know who I mean. A biotic human girl with krogan bodyguards? There is only one woman in this galaxy who have such an arrangement, and I know for a fact that her ship docked on this station yesterday. And knowing this you let Garrus out of your sight.”

Vistilla bristled at the accusation.

“So, you think Hannah Shepard would lurk around the C-Sec entrance to try and murder your family? Seems a bit excessive, even for her. And our son would not have tried to escape from my sight if you hadn't given him that scope!”

There was enough tension in the room now to choke a krogan, but Galenus wasn't done yet.

“Do you know what he Hierarchy would do if I or my family caused a scene that prevented a truce? We would be outcasts, no matter the reason for the dispute. My history with the Shepards-..”

“Are not going to influence the negotiations. It was the admiral's daughter who threw that insufferable boy into the presidium lake, after he verbally abused Garrus. And she made them give your present back. He's quite smitten with her, actually.”

She winked playfully at her husband, who almost choked on a combined cough and a snort.

“Spirits, that will be the day. At least he doesn't know who she is, and there has been no leak in the news reels.”

Galenus seemed to have found some morbid amusement in the thought of his son with Shepard's daughter, and kept huffing in a semi-distressed tone. Vistilla rose from the couch and fetched a pair of glasses and a bottle of their finest turian brandy. The triple-distilled was her husbands favorite, and he flared his mandibles in a grateful smile when she held the glass out to him.

He knocked it back in one swallow and motioned for a refill. She indulged him.

“Thank the Spirits there was only one official holographer there, and Shepard's girl is almost lost in the background. I don't want Garrus to get involved with that family.”

His voice was sad, and Vistilla didn't push him on this. This new beginning had to overcome a lot of bad blood, both blue and red. If Galenus wanted them to leave, she would.

“Garrus' marking day is coming in a month. He's a Palaven boy, and should get them done there. We could leave ahead of you, to prepare everything in advance.”

“Thank you. You read my mind,”his subvocals hummed with devotion.

“Love you too. Garrus will most likely forget all about that girl when he gets back to Palaven. They'll never see each other again.”

“I can only hope,” her husband murmured to himself.

 

* * *

 

**_2172 CE – Gagarin Station – August 20 th 09:00 AM_ **

 

“Freedom!”

Jane Shepard grinned as the shuttle conveying her mother back to the Orizaba finally left the station. Her mother had insisted on accompanying her to the BAat-program's main school, the infamous Jump Zero, and had talked Shepard's ear off about honor and dedication and responsibility and all that, but all she could think of was that she would finally get to train professionally with other biotics her own age. Wrex had helped a lot when he was hired as her bodyguard, but he hadn't really explained the whys, just the hows, and he grunted a lot when she got it wrong. Around her there was teeming with students her own age, some of them regular recruits and some of them biotics. Jane was all alone for the first time in her life, and it felt exhilarating. New friends, new place, new faces, this place was heaven.

From her left she heard a flanging voice shout something about a bag, and turned her head to see several turians throwing a backpack between themselves, keeping it away from the brown-plated turian who obviously wanted it back. There was always a snake in paradise, right? She shrugged. Her omni-tool pinged, and she pressed 'read.' It was a message from the team leader she'd been assigned, K.A, containing directions to the barracks and some standard information about mealtimes and regulations. They were to meet up with the other recruits in 40 minutes, and she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and made a beeline for her new sleeping quarters.

The barracks for the biotics were painted cobalt blue inside, and Shepard suspected it was some psychological idea of calm and quiet behind the idea. The beds were already assigned based on team numbers, and she was in team 1. Even the damn lockers were blue, she thought as she snapped it shut, and the closing door revealed an older recruit standing beside her. She jumped back, then gave a small laugh at the guy.

“Nice one, creeper. I'll be keeping an eye out for you.”

He had dark wavy hair and a big smile shone back at her.

“You'll be having your eyes on me all the time, rookie.”

“Oh conceited one, you’re not _that_ cute,” she teased.

“Cute, am I? Well, I guess it's never too early to suck up to your new team leader. I'm Kaidan Alenko, by the way.”

He extended his hand, and she shook it while examining him.

“I'm Jane Shepard. You're my team leader? You look rather old.”

“Oh, ouch. You'll be sorry for that when I drive you around the track all afternoon.”

Shepard groaned when she realized how rude the comment was, and tried to apologize. Kaidan waved it away and gave her another disarming smile.

“I'm an L2. Got my implants early, and they are causing me some problems. I've been held back a few times when they had to readjust too much.”

“Hey, I am sorry, I didn't mean to pry.”

“No worries. Wouldn't want you to think I was hanging around just to creep on pretty young girls.”

He winked.

Shepard couldn't help it, she started to laugh again, and flushed slightly. He was funny and handsome, and if she wasn't careful, she might be drooling all over her TL when she should be training. The rest of team 1 had come into the barracks and was making themselves at home, claiming lockers and beds while introducing themselves. Kaidan seemed to be waiting for something, and when the loudspeakers crackled to life and announced assembly at the training field, he called for silence and ordered them to follow. On the field was assembled a big platform, and several turians were standing behind the human headmaster. Right, Shepard thought, they'd hired turian biotics to train human biotics. That was a little less paradise. Kaidan saw her study their turian instructors, and leaned a little closer.

“The one on the right is our main trainer. He's very powerful, but a real bastard.” he whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

Shepard fixed her eyes on the turian Kaidan pointed out. He had a sickly green-gray tint to his plates, and his head seemed to dart from side to side, as if looking for troublemakers.

“What's his name,” she whispered back.

He gave her a rueful smile.

“They call him commander Vyrnnus.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was 15 years done in a jiffy. Anderson is divorced, according to the Mass Effect novels, and his ex-wife's name is Cynthia. I love krogans, by the way. Even that brute Wreav. :) I was thinking about posting a timeline here, just to make the story a little easier to follow, but maybe it's not necessary. We'll see. Warning of possible grammar mishaps. Happy reading. :)


	6. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard is getting to know her team and the station curriculum, with (not so) unexpected results. Garrus is a growing rebel.

The rectangular classroom was set up with six by four desks facing a large holo-screen and a turian-style chair behind a metal desk. Shepard noted that the left top of the screen read Conatix Industries, as did the datapads, track suits, sweatsuits, boots, sneakers, crates, training weapons an everything else she'd seen on on their tour of the facility. Clearly there was to be no doubt as to who were funding this camp, she mused and sat down on the second chair, first row. The fact that turians were running the training facility shone through here already, team one on the first row with the TL in first row, team 2 on second row and so forth. Very standard. Very turian.

Shepard slid down in second row and studied the charts covering the walls. Lift, stasis, shield, even reave on the short wall opposite her. Almost every field of biotic was illustrated, and she felt a little giddy at the thought of learning all of them. The rest of the students filed in and sat down while their chatter filled the room. One of the last to enter the room was Kaidan, and he placed himself in the seat in front of the line, like the other 5 team leaders. He turned around and snapped his fingers to get team one's attention.  
“Listen up, when the instructor arrives, be silent, don't talk back and don't be provoked, whatever he says. He likes to push the students around, so give him no reason to..-”

“Attention!”

The flanging voice rang outside the door, and commander Vyrnnus marched in like a conquering general. When he reached the metal desk, he slammed both hands down in the middle of the table, before he scraped his talons all the way down to the edge, making the students wince. Vyrnnus flared his mandibles in a very disturbing way, and Shepard saw Kaidan's back shudder. Okay, she thought, time to shut up.

“I am commander Vyrnnus,” the turian said in a deadly voice.

“It's my unhappy task to turn you maggots into something with a semblance to a a biotic fighting force.” He scanned the room, dwelling on each and every new student.

“And this sorry rabble is what they give me to work with.”  
He made a dramatic sigh, pushed himself off the desk and wandered to the far side of the classroom and gave one of the new recruits an eagle eyed stare. The girl shrank under his examination, but Vyrnnus merely scoffed at her and exclaimed “Worthless,”before moving to another recruit in line 5. This time his examining eyes hit a small mousy haired boy who was staring intently into his desk to not draw attention to himself.

“Look at that, cowering before his betters.”

The boy bent further over his desk, and his face reddened. Shepard moved in her chair, but caught Kaidan's half turned figure shaking his head as a warning. Her eyes fixed on the back of Kaidan's head, and she gritted her teeth as she tried to ignore the taunting instructor. Another boy in line 4 fared no better. Vyrnnus commented on his blank look, complaining that the Alliance were made up of dullards and morons, before heading to line 3. He grabbed the shoulder of a dark haired boy and bent down into his face.

“I was at the helm of the dreadnought that killed your father.”

Something snapped in Shepard’s head.

“Hallelujah, for he is risen.” Her voice rang clear out in the room, and the whole class froze.   
Vyrnnus' head swiveled to find the perpetrator, and bellowed;

“Who said that? Stand up!”

Shepard sprang to her feet and put on her best 'dumb grunt'-look.

“You,” Vyrnnus hissed as he slowly approached her. “You dare interrupt me!”

“Forgive my exuberance, sir. May I say what an honor it is to meet the new messiah of humanity. You seem to be remarkably well preserved after falling from the sky.”

Vyrnnus stared at her agape.

“What are you dithering about, human? What's a messiah?”

“Well, sir, since you were at the helm of the Belli Finem as it crashed into the earth and killed my father, you must be the resurrected son of god personified.”

On her right side she could hear Kaidan groan. She was, however, unable to stop herself.

“We humans always heard that it was general Arterius at the helm of that particular dreadnought, but we were obviously misinformed.” She leaned in closer and whispered to Vyrnnus;

“The information came from the turians, sir, best not to trust a word they say. Dishonest bastards, the lot of them. ”

Snapping back to attention, she resumed her blank stare.  
Vyrnnus blinked slowly several times, while this new reality caught up with him. He stared incredulously at her, before the cogs in his brain started to whirr, and a gleam of understanding shone over his face.

“Shepard. You're Jane Shepard. And quite the comedian, it appears.”  
Forgetting that he had more rows of students to terrorize, he strolled back to his desk with a thoughtful look.

“Well, we'll soon cure you of that. 6 rounds around the obstacle course will take some of that insubordination out of you.”

There was a gasp from the team leaders. Shit, Shepard thought, I really stepped in it now.

“Your team leader will fill you in on what you missed here this afternoon. Now get out and report to captain Corinthus for your punishment.”

Shepard saluted, and began walking to the door when a brown haired burly boy stood up from the last row of line 2.

“Excuse me, commander Vyrnnus. I would like to join recruit Shepard in her new training program.”  
Vyrnuus looked like he was about to have a seizure.

“Incredible! Did they assign me all the cretins this year? Explain yourself!” he barked.

“You see sir, a piece of the Belli Finem hit my family's outhouse. I feel this makes me especially suited to help people deal with their personal crap.”

Muffled snorts was heard scattered around the classroom, and Vyrnnus narrowed his eyes.

“Your name, wretch!”

“Recruit Dmitri Basanov, sir, glad to be here.”

The instructor's gaze flicked from Basanov to Shepard, uncertain if they truly were as stupid as they appeared to be. Finally he made a decision.

“Eight rounds. And Basanov, you're hereby transferred to team one. I like to keep all the idiots in one place. You there,” he pointed at the boy seated behind Shepard's place, “you're on team two. Move!”  
The boy scuttled over to Basanovs' spot. The latter was grinning like a madman, and Shepard tried not to smile herself. Vyrnnus was at the end of his rope.

“Get out!”

The both of them disappeared out the door, and he turned his attention to Kaidan.

“This is day one. On day two, you will be punished for their actions. Do you understand me?”

Kaidan nodded grimly. He knew Vyrnnus meant business, and he also knew it meant he needed to chastise half of the team. In the last row sat his last team member, a quiet girl with raven black hair in a pony tail. Kaidan glanced at his papers to get her name. Rahna Yilmiz. At least there would be one normal person on his team.

 

  
   
_**2172 CE – Gagarin Station – August 20th  20:00 PM**_

  
Shepard’s entire body burned with exhaustion, and she had to mentally force her legs to keep her standing upright. Only the rather rigorous training regime imposed on her by her mother from a young age kept her from toppling over. She felt a small comfort in that right now. Her right side ribs were incredibly painful after a fall from the monkey bars in the last round, and both Basanov and her were wheezing for breath. He'd missed a step when vaulting off the rope swing and fell into the water moat. When he resurfaced he had a cut in his temple and a slight limp.  
Shepard glared at him without any real anger.

“Next time you can run this course alone, please don't offer me any more moral support. Eight damn rounds, I feel half dead already..”

Basanov's face split into that maddening grin again.

“We have family history, yes? So I am required to help.”

His cheerful attitude grated somewhat on her nerves, while she tried to remember if her mother had ever mentioned a Basanov.

“Russian, right? And your family survived the crash of the Belli Finem?”

“Oh yes. Your mother had brilliant plan. Shame about the fallout. Many biotics born after that. Some survived.” He shrugged. “Sad, but so is life.”

“And you are one of them?”

“Born late in year. Child of darkness, my father says.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow at him. He grinned through the pain of his ankle.

“The man has no sense of humor. Great burden on me and my mother.”

They both chortled.

“Are you two done?” Kaidan strode into view, and gave both of them the evil eye.

“First day? First day! Are you two completely irresponsible? Now Vyrnnus has has it on for the entire team!”

Shepard and Basanov exchanged sheepish looks.

“It's not funny. Listen, this little run? Not even a warm-up for him. He will get really nasty unless you learn to control yourself.”

Basanov cocked his head and watched Kaidan's stern face.

“Even when he acts like bastard?”

“Yes! Now hit the showers, and I'll catch you up on the study plan afterward.”

He pointed to the barracks and practically herded them over there. The rest of the recruits were in the mess hall, and the place was completely deserted but for the three members of team one. Shepard and her partner in crime plopped down on a bench, and prepared for another lecture. Kaidan handed both of them a small backpack stuffed with datapads, and picked up two duffle bags with a Conatix logo and tossed one at each of them.

“This is what you wear from now on. Only reglement attire is allowed. No unsanctioned contact with the outside world. Your parents and or guardians will receive monthly rapports, you will get a holo-call once every second month. The first six months are an assessment of your skills and abilities. You will need to pass five examinations, in the station vernacular first examination is called firex, second examination is called secex, and so fort. After six months there will be held war games off base, comprising of everything you've learned thus far. The regular recruits' squad-training happens much the same way. Some classes are shared; Hand to hand close quarter combat, weapons training and the much beloved obstacle course you guys have already tried, but we have separate examinations from them. If you wash up at the war games, expect to be reassigned to a lesser training facility to prepare you for a future in cargo conveyance. So don't mess up. And don't rile up commander Vyrnnus.”

Kaidan paused and observed his two delinquents. They were listening with rapt attention, and were comparing notes on a pair of datapads. A relieved smile washed across his features. He seemed to be getting through to them. Then Shepard started snickering at something Basanov was doing on the datapad. Kaidan snatched it from him and saw it was an image of himself, with large breasts drawn on his chest, pig tails draped around his shoulders. These two nutcases would be the death of him, he thought as his blood began to boil.

“You are both confined to these barracks until tomorrow! There should be some ration bars in the duffle bags, replace them when you go to breakfast in the morning.”  
He then spun around and walked out, leaving Shepard and Basanov to burst out laughing as soon as he was gone.

  
   
**_2172 CE – Gagarin Station – August_** ** _21 th_** ** _17:00_ ** PM

  
Next day was Initial Assessment day, and Kaidan really ran them ragged. Rahna beat the two others in the obstacle course, Basanov out-shot both girls in weapons training and Shepard crushed both of them in hand to hand. The three were more matched in biotic abilities, but none of them could rival Kaidan for pure power. When he demonstrated his throw ability on the fortified target, it ripped off the latches keeping it down and flew halfway across the training field. Shepard couldn't help notice his proud smile was primarily aimed at Rahna, and nudged Basanov in the ribs, wiggling her brows in Kaidan's direction. Their team leader failed to notice Basanov's feigned retch, and they both shook with silent laughter. Rahna saw them, and shook her head mildly disproving. They snapped back to attention before Kaidan turned around and gave them a suspicious look.

“All right, I think I got what I need,” he said.

“You all have your strengths and weaknesses, but that's why I'm here. We will work together, and by the time we reach the six month mark we will all excel in every field.”

He beamed at his team, and they felt some of his pompous enthusiasm rub off on them.

“Our first goal should be to become first in firex. Now I know that a month of hard physical training on top of keeping our cool in the presence of the commander,” here he glanced at Shepard and Basanov, “will be hard, but that also is a test. If you can't take what a lone turian can dish out, then maybe you need to reconsider if you should be here at all.”

Three pair of eyes stared at him with reproach. He made a small embarrassed laugh.

“I'm sure you're all be good enough when the time comes. Now let's get some chow.”

His team lept to their feet and cheered.

* * *

The mess hall was full of the clatter of plates and metal cups, and Shepard juggled her tray past several other recruits and sat down next to Rahna. The other girl gave her a small smile, and continued to scarf down every morsel on her plate. Shepard knew precisely how she felt, as she was just as starved. She started wolfing down her own food. Basanov dropped into the seat opposite Shepard.

“You eat like animals. Uncivilized little beasts,” he grinned, before starting to chomp down his own meal.  
The tree of them snorted into their plates, and continues eating. A few minutes later Kaidan joined them. His own plate had a big topping, and he sat down beside Basanov and ate in silence with them.  
When the plates were clean, Basanov leaned back and groaned happily.

“I feel better now. Almost human.”

“No longer a beast?” Rahna's shy little quip surprised all of them.

“Finally. The girl speaks. Now, we should get to know each other better. I will start.” Basanov leaned forward.

“I am Dmitri Basanov, you should say first name. We will be great friends, all of us. I am biotic because a dreadnought fell near my parent's house. Next!”

He looked at them with anticipation. Rahna, Shepard and Kaiden exchanged glances. Kaidan shrugged.  
“Why not? My mother was downwind of a plane accident in Singapore, and nobody told us about it. How about you Shepard? Naturally good genes, or Conatix accident?”

“Ah, well, it seems my mother was wading around in some strange smog that kept pouring out of a turian dreadnought, and it had some side effects. Weird how these things happen.”

She gave Dmitri a knowing look.

“Your mother being admiral Shepard, right? That's some name to live up to. Or down.” Kaidan winked at her.

“Oh, thank you for your very reassuring words. She did give me the 'remember your proud family history-speech on the day I left, so I'm guessing failure is not an option,” she said, sarcasm dripping from every words.

“Parents usually wants their children to excel and do better then they did, because they love us.” Rahna's voice was calm and reassuring, and she reached out to pat Shepard's hand. “Your mother wants what she think is best for you, and perhaps this doesn't always match what you want. What you must remember, is that it's not from malice.”

“That's a very profound insight Rahna, I get the feeling you have something similar in your family.”  
Kaidan's big brown eyes were admiringly fixed on Rahna. Dmitri leaned back into his seat and rolled his eyes. The two girls tried not to smile.

“There was no accident near where I lived, so perhaps it was just genetic for me. My parents think its' a gift, meant to help humanity.”

The last sentence was interrupted by a scuffle in the chow line between two adolescent turians, trying to push each other out of the queue.

“The peacocks are posturing at their future rivals,” Shepard muttered under her breath. Kaidan overheard her.

“No more of that talk, Shepard. We're meant to work together, not insult our allies.”

Shepard glared at him for a few seconds, then nodded quietly.

“You're right. I'm sorry.”

He gave her an encouraging smile and went to put his eating utensils on the dish rack.

“Allies for how long?”

Only Dmitri heard her last comment, and he said nothing, merely glanced over at the turians with a dark expression.

 

  
   
_**2172 CE – Palaven – October 20th 15:00 PM**_

  
“What were you thinking, Garrus?”

Galenus' voice were mildly reproachful, and it made Garrus feel worse than a downright yelling, and certainly worse than the bruising on his face. The home office of his father was large, filled with old family heirlooms dating back to the unification wars, and standing in front of his father's large desk with a guilty conscience always made him feel like all his ancestors was siding with his father.

“They were three against one, I wanted to even the odds,” he said defiantly.

Galenus sighed. This was a conversation the two of them had often.

“If you see someone in trouble, you call one of the teachers. You do not injure another student to prove a point.”

“There was no time, if I left then-..”

“Help would have arrived earlier.”

Garrus stared at his feet, and refused to meet his father's disapproving eyes. Galenus worried about his son. The boy had a good heart, but he was too eager to cut corners and jump right into a situation before thinking it through. Brawling on school ground was reason enough for expulsion, as it showed low impulse control and lack of discipline. In this case, it did not make matters better than one of the other students involved in the fight was a Fedorian. The primarch was wary of any insults to hos family after his 'defeat' before the council regarding his intended invasion, and tended to take even small family squabbles personally.  
Galenus decided to opt for honesty with Garrus.

“You have to see the bigger picture, son. Timeus Fedorian is cousin to the primarch. The primarch's standing has been compromised after the failed war, and so he regards any attack on his family members as an attack on his authority. Do you see the danger in your actions now?”

“Then the primarch is in the wrong!” Garrus exclaimed. “He should not interfere in matters beneath him.”

Galenus watched his son with a mix of pride and exasperation. Too young for politics, old enough for right and wrong. The boy had honorable intentions, but his impetuous nature would lead him astray if not tempered with patience. In their father-son time at the shooting range, he'd shown high promise as a marksman. Perhaps the patience required of a sniper would prevent more hasty clashes on the school. As a bonus, he enjoyed spending some time with Garrus, with a common goal and no arguments between them.

“Garrus, calm down. I understand how you feel, but that's how things are.”

Garrus opened his mouth to protest, but his father raised a hand, calling for silence.

“I think you understand my will in this. No more fighting, or there will be severe consequences, not all of them from me.”

His son again fixed his eyes downwards, clearly not liking what he heard.

“I think you and me should go down to the shooting range today, get some hours of practice in. There's that youth tournament coming up in a week, and your mom and your sister are coming to cheer for you.”

“But not you?” Garrus' voice was low.

“I have to go back to the Citadel in two days, son. I'm sorry I'll miss that, but you can show me how good you are now.”

Garrus seemed to mull that over, then gave his father a careful smile.

“All right dad. I'm pretty good, almost as good as you.”

“Oh, big words, Garrus. You need to prove that to me before I'll believe that.”

Galenus smiled back at his son, and gave him an affectionate rub on his short fringe. Garrus seemed slightly embarrassed, but very pleased, and his subvocals hummed with anticipation of spending the evening with his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit shorter than I intended, as I had to see a man about a dog (car) this weekend. The choice was publishing what I had or nothing at all. In this fic Garrus is two years younger than Shepard, and he will arrive on the station not too long into the future. For those of you that have read the Mass Effect comic-books, yes, some of Galenus' lines are shamelessly stolen from Homeworld. Worry not, I have already written much about what happens when Garrus finally arrives, I just need to get us there. Any mistakes, let me know. Happy reading :)


	7. Nemesis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and her team are in training to become the Alliance's elite biotic fighters, according to their trainer. Too bad that trainer is commander Vyrnnus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder, TL means team leader.

_**2172 CE – November 01 th Gagarin Station – Gym 08:28 AM** _

“Kaidan, will you relax? You're killing us here.”

  
Shepard dropped down from the pull up bar and rotated her shoulder joints. Dmitri finished his jumping push ups and got up from the training mat.

  
“I agree with Shepard. We are best team in last two examinations, you should cut some slack.”

The continuous drilling Kaidan subjected them to in the last couple of months led to them coming in first in both firex and secex, but he was relentless. As soon as they mastered one technique he introduced a new one, and the breakneck pace was making both Dmitri and Shepard to rebel. Kaidan would have none of it. He suspected the two of them to be behind several subtle pranks against Vyrnnus, and if the turian ever proved that, they would all be out of the station in hours.

“I will give you a break when I'm satisfied that your ingenuity is not being used to irritate the commander,” he said sternly.

  
“Irritate? Come on, Kaidan, that turian is a permanent state of irritation, for us.” Shepard gave a mocking grin.

  
“This is true,” Dmitri chimed in, “the way he keeps tilting that chair in class? Very annoying.”

  
They both snickered.

  
“Right. And that has nothing to do with the fact that one of those chair legs is now slightly shorter than the other?” Kaidan said accusingly.

  
“Whatever do you mean?” came Shepard's innocent voice. “He has never said that himself, so don't go saying things you can't prove.”

  
“I found the metal file in the barracks, Shepard. Lucky for you that you filed it down over time, so he didn't notice right away.”

  
“Everyone has metal file, Kaidan. For weapon maintenance, repairs, and other stuff.” Dmitri smiled his crazy smile again.

  
“Cut that out. I know you did it, and only the facts that I can't really prove it, and that it would reflect badly on me is stopping me from turning you guys in.” He sighed. “You're playing with fire. If it should come to the attention of Vyrnnus that you're on a campaign to sabotage him, we're all done.”

  
Rahna stopped doing her lunges and came up beside Kaidan.

  
“I agree with our TL. You should focus on studies, not annoying instructor Vyrnnus. I'm sure he only means to help us with his strict teaching methods.”

  
The other three watched her with amazement. Whatever else they disagreed on, the fact that commander Vyrnnus disliked humans with the intensity of at least one small burning sun was not in dispute. Rahna however, always wanted to find the good in everybody, and while Shepard admired that quality in her friend, she could never think that way of people herself.

  
“Hey, I know you mean well, but Vyrnnus is not deserving of you defending him. He's a former mercenary, not a turian cabalite. He's also barefaced, and not even trusted by his fellow turians.”

  
Dmitri nodded at this.

“Captain Corinthus is hard-ass, yes? Makes you climb that rope ladder again and again if you do it badly. But he treats everybody equally harsh, human or turian. Vyrnnus, he likes to bother humans especially. He deserves to be bothered himself.”

  
“What if people had looked down on you your entire life for not having markings on your face. I'm sure something has made the commander the way he is today. We should not make his life harder.”

Shepard could hardly believe Rahna's determined faith in the inherent goodness of people, it was like a shield she wore to protect herself from a hard truth; that some people simply were not good people. She decided against arguing about this, as she knew Dmitri and her should give their attempts to make life harder for the commander a short rest anyway. Best not to overplay that hand.

  
“Sure, we'll play nice. For now.”

  
Rahna smiled warmly at her, but Kaidan eyed her with suspicion. He probably knew that had been too easy, but a little distraction would keep him happy.

  
“What, Kaidan? Want me to kick your ass in hand to hand for ogling me?”

  
“I’m years older than you, Shepard. Just because you won in your examinations it doesn’t mean you will beat me.”

  
“I respectfully disagree.” She grinned at him.

  
“I’m with Shepard on this one, Kaidan. No chance.” Dmitri said, jumping on the spot to loosen up his leg muscles.

  
Kaidan gave Rahna a glance. She shrugged apologetically.

“Sorry Kaidan, I’m with them.”

  
He bristled at this. “Ah hell no, you’re on, Shepard.”

  
“Oh yeah, that’s the spirit.”

  
They started circling each other, jabbing and dodging while trying out each others defenses. She saw that Kaidan’s upper body strength and reliance on defense made him a powerful, but not agile fighter. Almost like a krogan, she thought. Well, she would try a trick she learned from fighting Wrex. She unleashed a series of strikes he deflected with ease, before quickly swiping his right leg back, causing him to stagger. Kaidan kept his elbows up, expecting a downward strike, and she instead bent low, reversed the leg swing and hooked both his legs from behind, causing him to fall flat on his back. She was on top of him in seconds, pinning his arms down. Shepard’s weight on his chest made him struggle for breath.

  
“I yield, get off,” he gasped.

  
She rose and held out a hand, and he took it and got hauled back on his feet. Rahna and Dmitri clapped slowly, trying to hide smiles.

  
“She went easy on you, Kaidan. Lucky bastard.”

  
Kaidan gritted his teeth, seemingly having an inner conflict on his humiliating loss, before his better nature won out.

  
“All right, Shepard, not too shabby. I went easy on you, you know.”

He smiled that wide disarming smile both Shepard and Rahna liked so much.

  
“I’m sure you did. Not your fault I’m krogan-trained.” She flashed a satisfied smile.

  
“Cheater.” Dmitri growled playfully.

  
“I can still kick your ass in biotics, though.” Kaidan’s chest puffed out slightly.

  
“For now.”

They exchanged calculating looks, as if they were competing rivals. Finally Rahna interjected, rolling her eyes.

  
“No false modesty here, then. Show off some other time, we’ll be late for Vyrnnus’ class.”

  
That broke the tension between them, and they both laughed.

  
“Some other time, Shepard.”

  
“Sure. A little more training for both of us, and we’ll have a rematch.”

  
“After you can hit a target with that assault rifle and not just the shotgun,” came his smug reply.  
Dmitri chuckled. “And here I think Kaidan can not go low.”

  
“You’re both paying for that later.”

  
Their banter evaporated the second they stepped into the classroom. Vyrnnus was staring out the window as the students piled in and sat down.  
On every desk was three baseballs, and Shepard felt relieved. This was one of her better exercises When all the students where in place, Vyrnnus turned around.

  
“Lift one!” he barked.

  
The classroom shone with blue and purple glow, one ball was not that difficult. Vyrnnus however, was not all about the training.

  
“There are rumors flying around campus, that someone wants to build a transmitter.”

  
The class went silent except from the small sounds of exertion that came with keeping the baseballs floating.

  
“Someone here thinks they can break the rules with impunity, but if any rules are broken, so will the perpetrators be. Lift two!”

  
Shepard easily lifted the second ball, but several of the other students were having a difficult time with lifting multiple objects. Behind her Dmitri’s quiet “хуй” told her he still preferred more offensive style biotics. Rahna usually had no difficulty lifting objects, but team three was in trouble. Two of the members’ baseballs were wobbling dangerously, and Vyrnnus sneering face did little to mask his contempt.

  
“Humans. They think they can break every rule, and not even make the effort to do the simplest tasks.”

  
He turned to a boy in team three who’s face was sweaty and red from exertion.

  
“I always thought your kind were good at juggling balls.”

  
The boy jerked away, and the baseballs fell to the floor.

  
“Team three, 3 rounds in the obstacle course after dinner. Yes, I said after dinner, TL 3, any more complaining and that will be four rounds.”

  
Shepard kept her mouth shut, but noticed with some satisfaction that Vyrnnus was not sitting in his lightly calibrated chair.

  
“Lift three!”

  
Shepard lifted the last ball. This had been one of Wrex’s favorite game to keep her occupied when she was a child, and she knew she could balance six before she felt the strain. Around her, the rest of the teams were failing rapidly, and the small thuds of baseballs bouncing off the floor filled the classroom. Behind her Dmitri groaned and dropped his balls. From his corner she felt Vyrnnus eyes on team one, which meant that they were the last team standing.

  
“Well well well. If it isn’t little Shepard and her team of miscreants who win this little test. The rest of you, two rounds in the obstacle course.”

  
The students chorused “Yessir,” and piled out of the door. Shepard was the only one still levitating the baseballs in the air, and Vyrnnus strolled down to her place.”

  
“Take care that power is not too much for a little pyjak runt like yourself, Shepard.”

  
Shepard’s mouth ran away from her before she could think.

  
“Don’t worry about me, sir, there is much eezo in a dreadnought, sir.”

  
Ahead of her she could see Kaidan shrink in his seat. Vyrnnus nailed Shepard with his gaze and clamped hiss mandibles close to his face.

  
“And just when you win your team a brief rest, you drag them all back down with you. Four rounds in the obstacle course, and you all have to float a ball in the air all the way round.”

  
Shepard winced, and the rest of the team groaned.

  
“Dammit, Shepard!”

  
“Really?”

  
“Pizdet!”

  
“Sorry guys.”

  
Vyrnnus gave them all an evil smile.

  
“Move it!”

 

 

**2173 CE – 27 th February – Orizaba – Captain’s quarter 20:00 PM**

“Hello? Jane? Can you hear me?”Hannah tapped the screen impatiently.

  
“Loud and clear mom. I even I hear you hitting the poor onmi-tool, give it a rest.”

  
Hannah smiled. She had missed her snarky daughter, and not even being forced to work with turians seemed to have stilled Jane’s need to backtalk.

  
“That mouth of yours getting you in any trouble?”

  
Hannah heard a muffled snort on the opposite line.

  
“Ahem. It happens. But really, a few rounds around the track is good for you.”

  
“Really? Is this the voice of reason I hear, coming from my own child?”

  
“Haha, mom. You’re just as bad as Dmitri.”

  
“That Basanov-boy?”

Hannah hadn’t believed Jane when she told her about him, but she made some calls and confirmed it. It was Yuri Basanov’s son. The worlds most irritating man, but his son and Jane seemed to be good friends.

  
“Yup. But you’re not calling just to hear about Dmitri, are you?” Hannah heard the smile in her voice.

  
“No, but you like tormenting your mother, so let’s have it. How did the war games go?”

  
“Well, you know..” There was a prolonged silence.

  
“Come on, you. Just tell me.”

  
Jane laughed softly.

  
“Sorry mom. Can’t help it. I passed with flying colors!” Jane’s voice brimmed with pride.

  
Hannah gave a silent exhale of relief.

“And your biotic class?”

  
“They think I’m best suited to be a vanguard. I’m top of the class in shields, and even better with lifts.”

  
“Jane, I’m so proud that you do well in school, but be careful of being arrogant.”

  
“I know that, but that’s the two biotic abilities I’m really good at. Let me have one moment to crow about it.”

  
Hannah chuckled. “All right, but just between us. I can’t wait until this semester is over and we can go out to celebrate.”

  
“Mom, there’s one more thing. One of the instructors is thinking about recommending me for a position as an assistant trainer next year.”

  
“Assistant trainer? Quite the honor. What class?”

  
“Hand to hand for both biotics and regulars.” Jane sounded a little nervous, and Hannah wondered why.

  
“Who’s the instructor that recommended you?”

  
“It’s, ah.. captain Corinthus.” Hannah stiffened. That was a turian name. Jane seemed to pick up her mother’s hesitance, and her mouth kept running.

  
“I mean, he’s seen me during practice and our monthly exams, I’ve won every time, uh, I’m not bragging or anything, it’s just what happened, and he’s the one in charge of the obstacle course I’m always running, he’s not the turian that made me do all those laps, that’s commander Vyrnnus, he’s a real assh-..I mean, not nice, but Corinthus, he’s always been fair, he’s not like other turians, I just...”

Jane’s voice trailed off.

Hannah knew her daughter was trying to avoid upsetting her, and that made her feel a twinge of guilt.

  
“I’m sure that.. captain Corinthus has excellent judgment. You’re going to do a great job helping the other students, Jane.”

  
“I will be tutoring turians as well, you know.” Jane said reluctantly.

  
Hannah was glad it was only an audio line and no image that could show her grimace at the news.

  
“That’s what that station is all about, cooperation and learning from each other, right?”

She felt surprised she didn’t choke on the words, but they came surprisingly easy.

  
“Really? That’s great! I thought you might be.. doesn’t matter. I’m so glad you approve!”

Jane’s voice carried her smile all the way to the Orizaba. Hannah fought back the resentment she felt for the thought of her daughter working with turians, and forced herself to sound cheerful.

  
“Off course I would, sweetheart. You’ll do great.”

  
The rest of their conversation consisted of anecdotes of rebellion and friendship from Jane, and updates on David Anderson and some of Jane’s school friends from Arcturus station. Jeff Moreau was still determined to be a pilot, and missed having Jane to argue and get into fights with.  
Jane hoped she would be able to meet everyone after the semester, and Hannah promised they would try their best.

**_2173 CE – 15 th May – Gagarin Station – Training Field 05:30 AM_ **

The six teams were gathered around a lone student tied to a post in the middle of the field, with a triumphant Vyrnnus standing beside him. They were all quiet, as they guessed what the student had done. Shelby had been one of the students whom desperately wanted off the station, and he was always scrounging small parts of electrical equipment and wires the instructors wouldn’t notice. Commander Vyrnnus had somehow figured it out, or perhaps found his location when he activated the transmitter. Nobody knew for sure, and nobody was going to ask.

  
“I seem to recall,” Vyrnnus voice boomed over the field, “telling you sad excuses for biotics what would happen if you tried to break the rules and communicate with the outside world without permission. And yet, some of you did not listen.”

He pointed dismissively to Shelby.

  
“Now you will all suffer for it. Do you think this program is a joke? That Conatix is wasting all this money on you worthless animals just so your parents can be rid of you for a year?”

  
The class made no reply, merely observed the shivering and crying boy tied to the post.

  
“NO!” Vyrnnus bellowed, his voice echoing on the field.

  
“You are here to evolve from your primitive origins. You are here to learn to control your emotions, your fears and your weak flesh.”

  
His gaze swept over all of them and turned to Shelby, grabbing his head and yanking it back.

  
“This one is a failed experiment, best left out here to die.”

  
He slammed the boy’s head into the post, making Kaidan’s face harden. Shepard gave him a small nudge, reminding him that things could always get worse.  
Vyrnnus left Shelby bleeding from the gash in his forehead, and stalked down the row of students.

  
“But you will be given the chance to save him. Over there are the building bricks to our new future.”

He pointed to several blocks laid out over the field.

  
“If you can build a structure according to my instructions, using only your own biotic powers, then I will let your friend go. If not, you’ll all be here all week, no food, no rest, no water. If you fail, if you collapse, if you make too many mistakes, you’re out of the program. Perhaps you’ll get a job working beside some asari hookers in some of the seedy lower wards at the Citadel, I don’t care. At least you won’t pollute my air any longer.”

  
The students looked at the blocks, and each others. Vyrnnus lost patience again.

  
“What are you waiting for, useless apes, get to work!”

  
They scrambled over to the blocks and the field lit up by glowing hands lifting dozens of blocks.

 

 

**_2173 CE – 15 th May – Gagarin Station – Training Field 11:00 AM_ **

The first student had dropped at 09:13 AM, and the second an hour or so later. Shepard was doing fine with her own building, even though Vyrnnus had walked by twice and toppled it over, just to watch her do it again even higher. When she rebuilt it for the third time, he set her to hold several large blocks over the heads of the slower students. Even if lift were her specialty, her arms were starting to tremble from the strain. Several of the student struggled, having been deprived of food and water and not being good at lifting in the first place. Dmitri was having a hard time stacking the blocks, but Rahna was in big trouble. She was close to dehydration, and could only lift small blocks. Kaidan had helped her when Vyrnnus was occupied on the opposite side of the field, but he was coming back and he couldn’t risk it anymore.  
Vyrnnus strolled past Dmitri, giving a small scoff at his attempts to build. He grinned openly at Shepard, and she found she hated the man even more than before. When he saw Rahna stumbling and almost dropping the block she was levitating, he also saw Kaidan catching it, and pounced on them both.

  
“Impressive, Alenko. Bit I distinctly remember telling you to do this alone. Perhaps this one is special to you, yes? Maybe that’s how she’s managed to get this far, with you helping and receiving something in return for your troubles?

  
Kaidan’s face contorted in fury, but he said nothing. Shepard was getting a headache from the strain, but she tried to hold the blocks while simultaneously watching her friends. Vyrnnus was amused by Kaidan’s anger, and poured water from his canteen into a cup and levitated it in front of Rahna.

  
“If you can take this by biotics, you can drink. Nothing else will do.”

  
Rahna seemed completely dazed, and blindly reached out with her hand for the cup. Vyrnnus’ hand flared with blue, and a biotic orb struck Rahna in the arm. There was a loud snap as the bone in the arm broke, and Rahna cried out in pain while doubling over.

Kaidan dropped his lift and blasted commander Vyrnnus in the chest with a charge. The turian flew backwards and landed on his side. Around them blocks were falling down all over the field as the students scattered to the sidelines. Shepard was finally able to drop her blocks, and fell to her knees, trying to stem a heavy nosebleed. Dmitri pulled at her arm to get her up and away.

  
“Come on, Shepard, we’re in the middle of a war zone here.” he urged.

“That was incredibly stupid, boy!”

Vyrnnus was back on his feet and slammed Kaidan with a warp. His shields were shimmering under the strain, but it held out, barely.

  
“Surprise was the one thing you had going for you, Alenko. What do you do now?”

  
He pulled out a gleaming blade, brandishing it before Kaidan. Kaidan watched the turian with uncertain eyes, and ignored Rahna’s pleas in the background to back down.

  
“What you did was wrong.”

  
“Wrong? Teaching your kind to defend themselves is wrong?” Vyrnnus goaded.

  
“You are a bunch of weaklings, none of you would last a minute in a real fight.”

  
They circled each other.

Dmitri shook Shepard’s arm.

“We have to help Kaidan! Shepard! Focus!”

  
Shepard stumbled back to her feet, her face smeared with blood. She zeroed in on the instructor and Kaidan, and gave Dmitri a confused look.

  
“What are we going to do? If we hurt Vyrnnus, we’re all out of here come morning cycle.”

  
“I have feeling something bad will happen. We must stop it.”

 

Vyrnnus sneered at Kaidan.

  
“Done already? No more sneak attacks now, coward.”

  
“Don’t force me, bird!” Kaidan sneered back at him.

  
“That’s it. Show me your true face, human.”

  
Vyrnnus punched Kaidan in the face, and sliced his side with the knife. Kaidan gasped in pain, and shot another biotic blast at the turian, making him staggering backwards. He grasped at his side, blood pouring from the open wound and stared at the turian with a look of pure loathing, before he starting charging his biotics again.  
Rahna cried out “no!” but he refused to listen.

“Shepard, shield Vyrnnus! Now! Now!”

Dmitri was frantic. The only reply he got was “huh?” Shepard’s mind were still a little addled by exhaustion, but Dmitri spun her around and yelled in her ear.

  
“Shield Vyrnnus! NOW!”

  
Her arms flew up and a shield formed around Vyrnnus just as the flaring figure of Kaidan delivered a powerful kick straight to the turian’s face. The two of them were pushed apart by the disintegrating shield, and Dmitri charged into the fray and pinned Kaidan to the ground. He was shouting and cursing at both Dmitri and Vyrnnus now, but made no attempt to injure his friend.  
Shepard stumbled over to the unconscious Vyrnnus and checked his pulse. It was faint, but it was there. She turned to the TL of team two.

  
“Get the medic!”

  
She saw his hesitation, and jerked her head irritably.

  
“We’ll all be in more trouble if he dies. Now GO!”

  
The team leader turned on his heels and ran. Rahna came and sat down beside her, clutching her arm.

  
“He’s still alive?”

  
“Yes.”

  
“I can’t believe he would do something like that.”

  
She sounded shocked. Shepard felt more tired than ever before in her life.

  
“Vyrnnus has a mean streak, we all know that.”

  
“Not him, Kaidan! I can’t believe he almost killed a man. I never believed him capable of murder.”

  
Shepard stared at her, agape.

  
“Vyrnnus hurt you.”

  
“Yes, but I thought Kaidan was a better man than this.”

  
Kaidan had stopped struggling and were sitting up, staring at Rahna with a devastated look on his face. She glanced at him, before getting up and disappeared off the field. Dmitri and Shepard exchanged looks as well, not knowing what to say to Kaidan.

 

_**2173 CE – 18 th June – Gagarin Station – Docking station waiting area 09:04 AM** _

Dmitri and Shepard sat down in the waiting area, both in a somber mood.  
The semester was over, but the approaching holiday didn’t seem as appealing to Shepard as it had a month ago. Rahna was gone, her parents had pulled her out of the program mere hours after the incident. They had refused her to give any of them her contact information, and she had smiled sadly as the shuttle left the station. Shepard overheard her and Kaidan talking before it left, but it seemed that she had not entirely forgiven him for being what she called a man of violence. Kaidan had been crushed. He was sent off station two weeks later. The station program was to important to be derailed by a minor training incident, or at least that was the official explanation they received from the headmaster. Vyrnnus was to be reinstated as an instructor as soon as his neck was healed. It had been a close call, but the shield and quick medical response had saved his life. Dmitri had expressed his hope that they would not be training under him again, and she hoped that as well. Her mother would not be picking her up this time, and she was to take the shuttle to Arcturus station with Dmitri. He suddenly nudged her side, and she followed his gaze to a figure approaching them with a limp and a cane. It was Vyrnnus. They both jumped to their feet and stood at attention. He stopped in front of them, giving them both a look of pure hatred.

  
“I’m guessing you two think I owe you anything for that stunt in the field.”

  
“No, sir!” they chorused.

  
“Good for you. It wasn’t my ass you saved that day, it was your own. Imagine having that in your files. Unstable, unhinged human biotic mishaps, causing the death of their instructor through their incompetence.”

  
This time it was Dmitri that couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

  
“We did save your turian life, Sir! It must hurt, being indebted to pair of humans.”

  
Shepard closed her eyes, knowing that he just made everything much worse. Vyrnnus leaned in close and lowered his voice.

  
“You’re still training under me, idiots. And one day I will show you how much I owe you for that day. Until then, enjoy your holiday.”

  
He stepped back, and limped off back into the station.  
Shepard gave Dmitri a tired lopsided grin.

  
“That was really smart, buddy. We’re gonna catch hell for that.”

  
“Perhaps, but not until next semester. Until then, we have fun.”

  
He grinned back at her, and they picked up their bags and walked down to the shuttle bay.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone know why the blank spaces between lines have different sizes? I've been fighting with that all night.  
> I don't know how fast the next chapter will be moving along, but we are now in 2173 CE, and in 2174 CE Garrus Vakarian will be joining the other turian recruits on Gagarin Station. The turian who will be showing his markings next chapter is Decian Chellick. Be warned :)


	8. Fun and games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard is learning how to train her turians.

 

_**217** **3** **CE –** **August 20** **th -** **Gagarin Station –** **Shuttle docking area** **08:** **00** **AM**_

Shepard dodged the incoming students while scouring the crowd for her friend. His shuttle was supposed to have docked 10 minutes ago, and she had spent last hour pestering the docking crew for news of delays or early arrival. The introductory session for the assistant trainers would start at 10 AM, and she wanted to meet Dmitri before meeting the new students. According to their second year timetable, classes didn’t start before the 23 rd,  and she wanted to catch up with Dmitri and get his opinion on some ideas for her class.

Shepard thought she just caught a glimpse of Dmitri’s hulking frame when a passing first-year turian with dark gray plates slammed into her shoulder. She bounced off him, crashed into a Conatix floor poster, tripped and fell flat on her face. Her first instinct was to get off the floor and shout in the guy’s face, but when she rolled around and glowered at him, he was clicking his mandibles nervously and shifting his weight from one leg to the other. In his talons he was clasping his backpack in front of him as a shield, looking scared. Shepard closed her eyes and sighed. First time with humans, probably from a backwater colony and ready for his first impression of the human species. Damn. She forced her face into the semblance of a comforting smile and held out her hand. The poor turian pulled back at first, eyes flicking between her and her outstretched hand. He then stepped forward, shifted his bag into his left hand and reached out the other. She grabbed it and practically hoisted herself up by his arm.

“Slow down, buddy. The barracks are up two levels, just follow the signs. First years are to find their respective team leaders and assemble at the training field.”

He looked surprised at not being yelled at, huffed out a ‘thank you’ and disappeared down the hall. A large hand landed on her shoulder and spun her around, before the hands owner scooped her up in a big hug.

“Shepard!”

“Dmitri, you russian hoodlum! Missed you!”

“Apparently not enough. Falling for turians now?” He grinned.

“Ahaha, very droll, you jerk. Can’t really be scaring the first years before class, or the captain would have my ass.”

“I still cannot believe you will play nice with those awful first-years, let alone turians.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“We were first years not three months ago.”

“Yes, and we were horrible. Did you forget?”

They both laughed at this.

“Allright, I concede your point. Haven’t seen the commander yet, but I’m guessing he’s lurking around somewhere. Nothing we can’t handle when we stick together, right?”

Dmitri’s smile wavered for a fraction of a second, before it came back in full force.

“Off course. We are indomitable.”

She eyed him for a few seconds, then grabbed his arms and pulled him towards the exit.

“I need you to look at a few charts with me before my meeting with the rookies.”

“Aw, homework? Already? You got cruel over summer. Or perhaps you’re just nice with turians now.”

She elbowed him in the ribs, causing him to wince.

“Ouch. Proving my point, xenophile.”

“Shut it, or I’ll never cause problems with you again.”

“Cruel,” he whispered under his breath.

They continued the bickering all the way to the barracks.

 

 

_**2173** **CE –** **August 2** **1** **st** **-** **Gagarin Station –** **Sand pit training area** **09:00** **AM** _

While the introductory class over, captain Corinthus expected them to introduce themselves to their assigned groups, and to assert themselves as leaders for both the humans and turian students. Shepard had dreaded this moment for weeks. Teenage humans were bad enough, but adolescent turians? She had no idea how they responded to being pushed around by a human, let alone a biotic, and decided to play it safe in the first lesson. Some anatomy charts for both species to learn what to avoid, and some easy demonstrations to the benefit of the class was probably a good place to start.

The students started to pile in from the locker-rooms and filled the wooden bleacher seats surrounding the large sand pit. The anatomy charts she had printed out and placed on the seats were cursory glanced at and some of the students tossed them away. Shepard’s jaw tensed. These little brats would regret that. When the rookies was seated, her fellow trainers tried to shout to get the attention of their new subjects, whom seemed more interested in jeering and cursing their fellow students of a different species. She pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation, and several of the students were laughing at the attempt at getting their attention. Shepard looked up and surveyed her group with an evil stare. Fine, it would be the hard way.

She held out her arms and made her body glow with biotic aura. The students seated before her immediately went silent, before erupting in yells and cries as the wooden stand lifted into the air for a few seconds, then slamming back down on to the ground, knocking several students against each other.

Around the pit the other groups had gone silent as well. Good, Shepard thought, use the momentum.

“As some of you might know, my name is Shepard.”

Among the turians there was a small stir.

“Yes, my mother was Hannah Shepard, previously of the SSV Vengeance. I have inherited several of my mother’s traits, all of them unpleasant.”

There was a small titter in the turian portion of the seats. Shepard continued her speech.

“I will have no fucking profanity in my class. I will not accept racial slurs, not from the hairless pyjaks and not from the birds. Any forbidden moves on your opponent and I will repeatedly demonstrate what was done wrong on the offender before the entire class. The charts you’ve been given illustrates where you’re allowed to strike and where you’re not. Study it!" She glared at them.

"At the end of the day I am strict and I am unfair, other than that you must take me as I am.”

 

“Oh I’ll take you as you are.”

The voice was turian, and Shepard swiveled her head and saw several turians edge away from a beige-plated turian with purple markings, and she shot her hand out and pointed at him.

“You! Down here for a demonstration!”

The turian got up and sauntered down onto the pit. She gave him a mocking smile.

“ _Take_ me then, rookie.”

He gave her a confident smirk, before charging straight at her. She sidestepped his assault easily, tripping his right leg and grabbed his spur at the same time. The turian’s own momentum caused him to smack headlong into the sand, and she held on to the spur in a painful grip and caught hold of his short fringe with the other hand. There was a collective gasp from the watching turians. The beige turian whimpered under her.

“Weak spots for turians are, among others, the spurs and the fringe. In addition to being extremely painful,” a cry from the turian underlined her words, “touching a turian’s external cartilage such as the spurs or fringe is something of a cultural taboo. This move is _not_ allowed, but no one could have known that, not having read the charts I gave you not 5 minutes ago.”

She released the turian and scowled at the group. There was a complete hush, before a human recruit on the back row burst out: “Yeah, that’ll show the birds!”

The turians turned their heads and stared intently at her to see what she’d do. Without a word she shooed the beige turian from the pit with a hand motion, and then pointed at the human to get his ass down from the bleachers.

He sidled down, more confident than nervous, and took position opposite her.

“Show _me_!” she snarled.

He approached carefully, not wanting to make the same mistake as her previous opponent. He threw a few testing jabs, before swinging his right in a wide haymaker. She bent backward while falling to her knees, and as he was regaining his balance she swung her body forward and headbutted him in the groin. There was a collective groan from the male human students, and a stunned silence from the group.

She got up and dusted off her knees, while her opponent sagged down with a small line of dribble escaping from his mouth. His eyes were shut from pain.

“Human males have external genitals as opposed to turians. Hitting, kicking or headbutts in this area is extremely painful, and can cause the recipient to faint, become sterile or have a ruptured scrotum. It is _not_ allowed.”

There was a collective wince from the males of both species.

She turned to the beige-plated turian.

“You will help your fellow student here down to the medics. Take two charts with you.”

The turian nodded quietly and walked over to assist the kneeling human. She gave him a curt smile before turning back to the bleachers.

“We can either go through every illegal move here on the pit, with me demonstrating every illegality on some volunteers, or we can go through the charts to avoid unnecessary damage. Any preference?”

There was a rustling as the students searched around for the charts they’d thrown around earlier.

“Also, turians will need to use fight gloves to avoid injuring their human counterparts. Humans will avoid grabbing at a turian’s face, as the mandibles can easily be yanked off.”

A turian with striking green eyes in the front row fixed his eyes on her. He had white colony markings and an indeterminate muddy plate color, like a mix of light grey and brown, and she saw a flash of recognition she didn’t like. She saw him lean into the turian sitting next to him and heard the almost imperceptible wisper: “Saren Arterius.”

“You, green eyes in the front row!”

He jerked back and gawked at her with wide eyes.

“I’m Decian Chellick, sir.”

“Were you informing your friend here about the finer points of human anatomy?”

“No, Shepard.”

“Then I suggest start reading, as I will be asking questions during demonstrations next lesson.”

“Yes, Shepard.”

She gave him a scrutinizing look. Something about his tone reminded her of Dmitri, but surely no turian could be like her best friend.

“Good. Get your chart.”

She glanced around the pit and saw that some of the other groups were staring at them instead of doing their own work, and the other trainers gave her the evil eye. She shrugged. That was their problem, she had her own. Corinthus would undoubtedly summon her to explain two injured students before training even begun, but at least she got their attention.

* * *

 

“So, using biotics on your students, sending two of them to the medics, breaking several cultural taboos, printing out semi-pornographical images of humans and turians, making your fellow trainers look bad.. Did I miss anything?” Captain Corinthus sounded almost amused, but his gaze was withering.

“They were silhouettes, not porn,” she muttered.

“Speak up, Shepard!”

“No, sir, that sounds pretty accurate,” she said aloud.

He studied her face intently before he spoke again.

“Do you know how many complaints I got from your team about your teaching style today?”

She grimaced.

“I would imagine quite a few.”

Corinthus flared his mandibles in a smile.

“None! In fact, I got several petitions from both turians and humans to join your group.”

“What?”

“I know. _Strict and unfair_ , and still they want to join your team. It would seem that your eagerness to manhandle students of either species has given you some admirers.”

“That’s, uh, strange.” She was uncertain what else to say.

“Not so strange, Shepard. I know you’ve read up on turian anatomy for your lessons,” he chuckled, “but what else do you know about turian teenagers?”

“Very little,” she confessed.

“They are very competitive, way beyond human adolescents. Sparring is both a way of gaining position, and releasing tension that comes with being, ahem, hormonal.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Thank you for informing me that I have to train horny turians, sir.”

He gave a small chuffing laugh.

“I think you’re more than a match for most of them. My point is, they will do anything to impress you now that they know you can best a turian easily. They admire strength and fairness, and you being equally unfair to both humans and turians seems to be very, ah, appealing to them. Take care not to exploit this.”

He waited while letting his words sink in.

Shepard gaped at him as she finally understood his meaning.

“You’re telling me not to… take sexual advantage of my turian students?!”

“It’s highly unlikely, I grant you, but stranger things has happened. Like commander Vyrnnus’ freezing shower cabinet?”

Shepard’s face went blank.

“Wouldn’t know anything about that, sir.”

“I’m sure you don’t, Shepard. Just be careful this year. The barefaced bastard is gunning for you. And that friend of yours.”

Shepard gave him a suspicious look.

“You’re telling me this, even though you’re both turians?”

Corinthus sighed.

“Do you know why you are here, Shepard? You, specifically?”

“Cooperation and training, and-..”

“No. You are here because your mother is who she is. It was not her choice, she argued vociferously against it. Your presence here is part of a prestige project between the humans and my people, for peace. Vyrnnus is here for credits. If our people didn’t have a truce, he’d be a mercenary for whomever paid best. He’s unpredictable and dangerous, and he’s in charge of you.”

Shepard thought about Corinthus words for a moment.

“I think I understand sir. I’ll.. tone things down for now.”

“Thank you, Shepard. And Shepard. One more thing. You are the symbol for the human’s willingness to cooperate. The Hierarchy will also..”

His voice trailed off, and he observed her closely.

“No. Best to wait. You just have to know that I don’t always agree with orders from above.”

She didn’t understand where he was going with the last part of their conversation, just nodded and left.

* * *

 

When she closed the door behind her, Corinthus relaxed back in his chair and scraped his talons absentmindedly against the table. Shepard was showing some promise in dealing with turians, as her handling of Celsus when he knocked her over area proved. His son was one of the turians that requested a change of groups after that bizarre morning lecture. It was a good start, but one year wasn’t that long. If the rumors was correct, Galenus Vakarian was expected to make the same sacrifice as Hannah Shepard. If Shepard the younger was as volatile as her elder, those two would make for a rather tense meeting. Corinthus pulled out a datapad and reread the inquiry from the primarch’s office. _‘_ _Risk assessment regarding G.Vakarian’s participation in the Jump Zero-project.’_ He then studied a second datapad with a vid of this morning’s lesson. After mulling it over for 20 minutes he reached a conclusion. Activating the first datapad, he wrote in a reply: Risk to G. Vakarian – substantial. He pushed the pads away, feeling that he made the right decision. Progress or not, it was a needless risk.

* * *

 

 

_**217** **3** **CE –** **September** **2** **4** **th -** **Gagarin Station –** **Biotic training field 03** **:21** **AM**_

“Faster, faster, faster! Come on, Shepard, what do you think this is? A human retirement home? Move it!”

Shepard cursed under her breath as she slid down the muddy slope while holding the 40 kilo dumbbell afloat over her head. Ahead of her Dmitri was already climbing the next hill, and she levitated the dumbbell up after him. He reached the top and activated his lift to relieve her. Behind her she heard a shout and something rolling downhill toward her. Shepard gave the dumbbell an extra push before she was knocked down like a bowling pin.

“Really, Shepard? Rolling in the mud like an earth porcine,” came Vyrnnus' jeering voice.

“He means pig, Shepard!” came Dmitri’s cheerful one from the hill.

“I do _not_ need a translator, Basanov, Shepard knows what she is.”

Vyrnnus sounded annoyed, and Shepard tried to hide a grin as she wiped away mud from her face. Leave it to Dmitri to take the fun out of taunting your students.

“Get your ass moving up that hill, or your whole class will be doing extra laps before weapons training.”

“Yessir!”

She hauled herself out of the mud pit and scrambled towards Dmitri.

 

 

**217** **3** **CE –** **September** **2** **4** **th -** **Gagarin Station –** **Locker-rooms** **0** **9** **:00** **AM**

“Gods. And here I thought he couldn’t possibly get more assholish.”

Shepard leaned up against the cold blue locker with closed eyes to ease her headache. Dmitri sat with his back to his own locker and rested the back of his head against the metal like her.

“I have no problem believing he could get even worse.”

His face flinched with pain, and he placed his thumbs on his temples and started rubbing them gently.

“You think this will get better when we get our implants?”

He glanced up at her, before hurriedly looking away.

“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe it get worse.”

Shepard opened one eye and peered at him.

“You are getting the implant, right?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s three maybes in two sentences.”

“Let’s change the subject, yes? No more biotic talk today.”

He sounded serious, and that was unusual enough to make Shepard back down.

“Okay then. New topic?”

“All the lustful turians in your class.”

“Aaah, hell no, as Kaidan would say. Not up for debate.”

“Come on, indulge your friend. If you had to choose...”

“No, no, no, no, no, no. No way!”

“Which of the flightless birds would you let land in your bunk-bed?” He leered playfully at her.

“Why do I tell you anything at all? I actually think I prefer Vyrnnus to you right now.”

“Do you think they nest?”

“Dmitri!”

“What?” He sounded so innocent, if not for the wide smug grin plastered on his face.

Shepard groaned and hid her face in her palms. He’d been relentless ever since she told him about her conversation with Corinthus, and while she usually found it funny, it was decidedly less so with her brain attempting to escape through her ears.

“It’s not so far-fetched. You have pictures of naked turians everywhere in your room. Your _private_ room, now that you are coach. Very sneaky.”

“They are black and white external anatomy charts, moron. I’ve never even seen a turian’s cock in my life. You’ve probably seen more than me, since you share showers with them.”

“Maybe.” He grinned. “Want details?”

She glared at him.

“Sure, why not. Tell me all about those wonderful turian cocks you sneak-peak at all the time.”

There was a commotion at the door, and they both spun around to see a delegation of turians being led by Chellick stare at them with mandibles clicking in embarrassment. Dmitri burst out laughing while Shepard let her forehead bang softly into the metal locker again. The turians continued clicking and looking anywhere but straight at them, except Chellick. He recovered admirably, and his bright green eyes were fixed on her in a silent challenge. A chuckle escaped her at the absurdity of the situation. That seemed to relax the rest of the turian recruits.

“Anything I can help you guys with?” she asked.

They pushed Chellick forward, and he stood straight with his head high.

“We want to know if you’ll be in the sand pit today. Firex is over, we need to prepare for secex.”

Dmitri shook his head lightly and got up from his seat.

“That is nearly three weeks away.”

“Exactly. We need to get moving now. Get in the basics, before-..” He cut himself off.

“Before?” Dmitri asked.

“Look, we know that second-years biotics get their implants in November. We’ll be without a trainer while Shepard is in recovery.”

“Don’t be stupid, you will get substitute.”

“A substitute is not Shepard.” Chellick took a step closer.

“I know who you are, Chellick. Careful.”

To Shepard’s ears, Dmitri sounded a little confrontational. She remembered captain Corinthus’ words about competitiveness in turians, and decided to step in.

“Relax Dmitri. Boys, I’ll come down after our fire drills, around 15:00 hours. Be warmed up when I get there so we can make the most of the afternoon.”

“Sure, Shepard.”

Chellick gave Dmitri a triumphant glance, and nodded at her before he and the rest of the turians strode out. Dmitri gave her a triumphant look of his own.

“I think I know your favorite bird now.”

He pulled three fingers down his chin, mimicking Chellick’s white colony markings.

Shepard flashed him a condescending smile, before slamming his own locker door in his ass with a loud smack.

“Ow! No wonder they like you. Only fight fight fight, all day.”

“Yeah yeah, now move it. I’ll show you how to use a real gun instead of that little pistol you insist on using for everything.”

“Always with the size. Women..”

They shoved each other as they exited locker room and headed for the shooting range.

 

 

_**2173 CE – October 25 th -  Gagarin Station – Gun Range Armory 17:10 PM** _

 

“I don’t know why I need to be here,” Dmitri complained.

“Because I asked for you, buddy,” Shepard said, smirking.

“It’s your turn to clean the rifles, why must I help? I had date with Irina, and you ruined it.”

“I got to pick a reward for my group winning the most in secex, and I choose you.”

“Why? That is evil. We are friends. Or so I thought,” he grumbled.

“Oh, I just enjoy your company. _And_ , I know that you told my training group that I think turian colony markings are sexy.”

Dmitri coughed guiltily, and tried to stifle a laugh.

“That is..technically true, yes, but surely they didn’t believe that. It was just for fun.”

“I know. And so is this,” Shepard grinned. “If you try to hook me up with turians, I’m gonna cockblock you.”

Dmitri groaned. “Come on, Shepard. You’re no fun anymore after becoming a coach.”

“Responsibilities, Dmitri. If I do this well, I could be fast-tracked into a Navy branch of my choosing after BAat.”

“Still thinking about joining the military after this? You like getting ordered around?”

She tossed an oily rag at his head. “Perhaps I like ordering others around.”

Dmitri scooted away from her line of fire. “coughTurianscough.”

“Hmm, perhaps I’ll tell Irina about Angela.” Shepard mused into the air.

“No! I have real cough, see?” He hacked and spluttered in a dramatic way for several minutes, but she was unimpressed.

“Right. Well, since you’re not getting laid tonight anyway, how about a game of skyllian five in my room?”

He straightened up and put away the guns he’d finished cleaning.

“Sure. You are bad friend, I will not feel sorry for taking your vendor tokens.”

She waggled her eyebrows at him.

“As if.”

 

 

_**217** **3** **CE –** **October** **2** **5** **th -** **Gagarin Station –** **Outside Shepard’s room** **-** **17** **:** **43** **PM**_

“Will you open door, Shepard? I look like stalker here,” came Dmitri’s annoyed voice.

“Sorry, here’s the keycard, go on in. I need to hit the head.”

She tossed him the card and went into the bathroom. He swiped the lock and entered her room. She heard a muffled bark of laughter, but thought little of it until she was back in front of her door. It locked automatically, and she knocked on the door to get Dmitri to let her in. Hurried steps could be heard inside, and the door whooshed open. She stepped inside.

“All right, get out the ca-…” Shepard stopped dead in her tracks and stared at her room.

Inside her private room, from the floor to the ceiling the place was lined with images of naked turians in various states of arousal or performing sex acts. The pictures seemed to be torn from a glossy magazine, and they covered nearly every surface of the room, including the furniture and inside her locker and the ceiling above her bed. Shepard turned around slowly, staring slack-jawed around the room, partly disgusted and a small disturbing part completely fascinated. Dmitri grinned at her with the world’s biggest smirk.

_“Well well, Shepard,”_ he said, imitating Vyrnnus’ voice, _“interesting decorating style for a wretched human.”_

Shepard endeavored to find her voice, but merely managed to blurt out “I, ..ah,...I don’t, ...I haven’t...” then went silent.

There was another knock at the door, a beep from the door lock, and captain Corinthus walked in.

“Shepard, I wanted to congratulate you-..” he said before catching sight of the full horror of the room. His mandibles went slack and eyes widened, before he reclaimed his faculties and snapped his mandibles close to his face.

Shepard finally found her voice.

“Sir, this is not what it seems.”

“Unless it seems like Shepard is admiring the turian form in all it’s naked glory, sir,” came Dmitri’s helpful voice behind her.

She swung her elbow back and caught him in the stomach.

“Oomph.”

“Shut it,” she whispered through gritted teeth.

“I think I can grasp what’s happened here,” Corinthus said with a strangely strained voice.

“Mail into the station is closely monitored, and as far as I know, you don’t subscribe to Fornax.”

“Fornax?”

“My point exactly. My question is, how are you going to handle this, Shepard?”

“What?”

He sighed. “How are you going to handle this prank, Shepard. I don’t want you to murder any of your students.”

“Prank,” she said, realization dawning, and it dawned fast. “Chellick! That little twit!”

Corinthus and Dmitri looked at her, awaiting the inevitable explosion. Instead, Shepard scanned through the images covering the room again, and burst out laughing. Both her friend and the turian captain stepped back, uncertainty in their faces.

“That little creep! He was definitely the instigator, but I’m sure they were all in on it. Ooh, I’m gonna give him hell tomorrow!”

She smiled maniacally, and Corinthus and Dmitri eyed each other carefully. It would probably have been better if she was angry, and Corinthus decided to sit in on tomorrow’s lesson, lest Chellick somehow disappeared without a trace.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was much more fun to write and slow moving than I planned :) Hope you guys like it. Always happy for comments :)


	9. Atonement and accidents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard carries out her payback, with unintended consequences for herself.

**217** **3** **CE –** **October** **26** **th** **– Gagarin** **Station –** **Training Field** **–** **15:46** **PM**

Shepard plunked down the crate on the short side of the field beside the others and wiped the sweat from her brow. Some 20 meters behind her Dmitri tottered along with one crate under each arm, complaining loudly. She ignored this, and started to loosen the lids off their plunderage.

“You know, If Vyrnnus was aboard the station, you would never dare this,” he gasped as he dropped off the last crates.

“And if I didn’t suspect that you had at least one finger in the vandalism done to my room, I wouldn’t make you carry these up here,” she replied dryly.

“Paranoia, that is your problem.”

She turned around and raised an eyebrow. He shrugged, feigning innocence, and she narrowed her eyes and bored them into him. He shrunk a little, but persisted commendably.

“It’s the turians, they are all bad. No sense of humor at all.”

“Really? I thought it was pretty funny.” She returned his innocent expression.

Dmitri wasn’t fooled. “They are evil, you can see it in their scales.”

“Mhm.” Shepard flipped off the last lids.

He looked inside, and made a face. Hundreds of baseballs, tennis balls, softballs and other assorted circular objects littered the crates. It was commander Vyrnnus private store for training biotics, and they had raided all of it.

“Are you sure about this? It looks amazing, yes, but it will hurt like hell.”

“It’s my thing. You can crack concrete blocks, I can make the pieces fly.”

“You just want to show off in front of your fans,” he jeered at her.

“That too.” She winked back.

Dmitri feigned surprise. “What? Never have believed you wanted to joke around with the birds, Shepard.”

She straightened up and reflected on his words for a while, before coming to a unpredicted conclusion.

“Let’s not say that word anymore, okay. These boys are not that bad. For turians, I mean,” she said hurriedly.

“Who are you? Where is my mean friend?” Dmitri poked her in the shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Shocking. Let’s just get ready. Nobody plasters my room with porn and gets away with it.”

 

* * *

 

Captain Corinthus flicked his eyes from the students practicing throws and leg swipes to his datapad, detailing station inventory. The lesson had been relatively uneventful so far, and that made it possible for him to get some of the more boring aspects of his position as an instructor done as well. He was beginning to think Shepard had risen above petty revenge, when a shrill whistle sounded over the pitch. Shepard could be seen lining the students up on the opposite side of the field. Corinthus saw several open crates displayed on the short side where he sat, and frowned his brow plates. Whatever she’d planned, he was glad he wasn’t on the field right now.

 

* * *

 

“Well, I must say I’m impressed, rookies. We’re the leading group in hand to hand, you’re all making steady progress. So far, so good.”

There was a line of flaring mandibles and proud grins.

“Sadly, it has come to my attention that some of you have way too much free time on your hands. And since idle hands do the devil’s work, there’s no wonder some rather sinful stuff appears where it’s not wanted.”

Several chuffs and snorts was heard along the lined up students, and Shepard distinctly saw many eyes darting to Chellick before looking straight ahead. Not all of them turians, she noted. Interspeices cooperation, or simply collusion? No matter, they would all suffer the consequences.

“So, I’ll have to implement a much harder regime. So far you’ve fought one on one against each other. Now, you’ll _all_ fight me.”

Both the turian and the human students now exchanged worried looks. They knew her well enough to sense a trap. She smiled a reassuring smile that did nothing to ease their minds.

“Not to worry, boys. The first one will be easy. I’ll just stand over there,” she pointed to the other side of the field, “and you guys try to tackle me to the ground. I won’t use my biotics on any of _you_ in this exercise.”

She emphasized the word you very little, but her main culprit caught it. The other students relaxed a bit, but Chellick’s green eyes had already observed the arranged crates and he remained as tense as ever.

“Just knock me down, and you’ve won. If you flee the field or fall down, you’re out. Show me what you’re made of.”

She started backing away with a big inviting smile on her face, and the students glanced at each other, anticipatory smirks spreading, readying for the charge across the field.

 

* * *

 

Corinthus observed with apprehension. Shepard couldn’t possibly fight off the entire group of her own without biotics, but the amount of power needed to subdue this crowd could possibly kill her. This could bring both the Alliance and the Hierarchy down on him, and he deliberated on whether or not to stop this experiment, when Dmitri Basanov suddenly appeared at his elbow.

“Captain! Come to see the show?”

“Basanov. Do you know what she’s going to do?”

“Ah, probably liquefy her brain and make Vyrnnus very happy.”

“That’s not-.. what?” Corinthus stared at him.

“It was joke! Shepard is great at manipulating objects.”

“It would take quite a few objects to stop those students. She trained them herself.”

“Yes, hundreds, but Shepard is trained by Vyrnnus. He is not very fond of Shepard, and makes her do twice as much as the other biotics.”

Dmitri turned to the field with a look of pure delight on his face.

“We will either see a spectacular sight, or a horrific death.” He pondered this for a second.

“Maybe more than one deaths.”

Corinthus wore a blank expression as he caught up with the information. “Hundreds?”

He turned around and opened his mouth to call it off, when the field around Shepard started to flash with a biotic glow, and the students charged her from the other side.

 

* * *

 

Shepard felt the biotic field around her expand as she spun the vortex around herself. It felt like time slowed down as the swirl helped the uplift of the balls in the crates, and they started to spin around her like debris in a tornado. The first of the students hesitated shortly before throwing themselves into the biotic whirlpool. Shepard realigned her focus and caught the students in a roiling eddy, smacking them repeatedly with dozens of balls. Cries and yelps erupted from the first wave, and they broke formation and dived for the baselines, escaping the storm. The second wave of students halted their advance up the field, and she refocused on them. Already she felt the strain of holding that many balls in the air at the same time, and the dizziness warned that she had to keep this as short as possible.

As she shifted her eyes from one to the other, the students were already ducking and weaving the occasional stray projectile that escaped her vortex. She felt lightheaded, and decided to push for an early victory. Her hands extended, and a barrage of flying balls shot over the field, making her students squeal and scatter to the sides. Every time one was hit, there was a loud ‘whack’ that made even her flinch, and a pained outburst. It reminded her of the occasional old-style game of paintball she used to play on Arcturus, and recalled vividly getting hit by the small paint-bullets. This was going to show for days. She grinned at the thought.

It took less than 10 minutes for her to clear the field, and to her great schadenfreude the last man standing was Chellick, dashing around the field like a madman to many cheers from his defeated co-conspirators in the sidelines. Shepard followed the scurrying turian with a hail of balls, hitting him in the back whenever he zigzagged too slow. Despite having reduced the number of opponents on the field to one it was still exhausting. Shepard felt a small trickle of nosebleed and knew she was playing it close. She dropped all but one soaring tennis ball, and fell to her knees, coughing and clutching her chest. Chellick stopped immediately, and even though he was gasping for breath, he gave her a look that reminded Shepard of genuine concern. It made her hesitate, and he took one step toward her. It was a spontaneous reaction from him, countered by one from her; the tennis ball smacked him right in the crest, and he staggered before toppling over.

Laughter erupted from the sidelines, and spread applause for both Shepard and the last turian standing sounded around the field. She saw both Corinthus and Dmitri clapping, and decided to go for the coup de grace. She hauled herself to her feet, flared her bio-field to life again and made a run for the downed turian. A couple of meters away from him she somersaulted herself in the air with her biotic lift and used slam to propel herself downward against the prone position of Chellick. Corinthus, Dmitri and the other students shouted from the sides, but to no avail. Shepard slammed down with both feet on either side of Chellick’s face, and the turians wild eyes stared fearfully at her. Shepard’s face broke into a tired grin, and her eyes met Chellick’s. He took several deep breaths, before giving a huffed chortle.

“You’re crazy Shepard, you know that?”

“I’m just krogan-trained.” She stepped away from him and reached out a hand. He flared his mandibles and let himself get pulled to his feet by her, before having to support her when she started to sway. Chellick leaned down and whispered in her ear as he held her; “Your eyes, Shepard. They are filled with blood.”

She made a small groan. That last trick had been stupid. Using biotics on oneself should only be used sparsely, and she’d done it for fun. Now the blood vessels in her eyes were most likely ruptured, which meant she would look like a damn vampire for weeks. She heard footsteps approaching, and saw captain Corinthus drawing near with a thunderous look on his face. She quickly turned to the group.

“There were 223 balls in those crates, I expect all of them found and returned to their rightful place. Dmitri Basanov, that guy over there will help you.”

She had no more time as Corinthus had arrived and grabbed her by the shoulder, dragging her away from Chellick and off the field.

“Every single one,” she yelled as they disappeared through the exit, and the green eyed turian looked wistfully at the door where she’d left, before joining the others in clean-up duty.

 

**217** **3** **CE –** **October** **26** **th** **– Gagarin** **Station –** **Locker Rooms** **–** **20:14** **PM**

Shepard thought she could almost hear the flanging angry voice of Corinthus down here in the locker room, but that was most likely due to the faint echo in her head of every little noise nearby. Her mouth was dry, and she opened the door to her own cabinet and pulled out three painkillers and a bottle of water. In the reflection of the mirror she could see the sclera of both eyes had turned blood red. The doctor had said the damage was only superficial, but reprimanded her and told her not to do it again. Placing the pills on her tongue to dissolve somewhat, she closed the door and unscrewed the cork, taking a sip. The captain had been furious, not only for the game of biotiball she played on her rookies, but for risking her own life in ‘ _the most foolish display of_ _insipid arrogance and human idiocy’_ he’d ever seen. All in all, she figured she’d gotten off easy. Vyrnnus would have invented an inspired form of punishment as well, Corinthus merely called her an idiot. Today she knew it was deserved, and she put her forehead against the cold metal. Dmitri was right, she could be such a shameless showoff sometimes.

The feeling of her head against the locker was familiar, the strained sounds of someone grunting and wheezing was not. Shepard still felt a little dizzy and scraped her hand against the row of lockers as she went searching for the person making the noise. In the far corner of the turian’s designated area, she found Chellick. He was bare-chested with his back to her, trying to bend his arm behind his back to apply medi-gel to the dark blue areas under his sloping cowl. Perhaps it was the pain killers kicking in, but she felt genuinely sorry for causing those marks. It was only right she help out, right? He was bending and contorting his body in some disturbing ways, causing the plates and the hide between them to shift in a fascinating pattern. She’d never seen a half-naked turian before, if she discounted those pictures from the Fornax magazine, and it was a captivating view up close. It reminded her that she really needed to throw those pages away instead of hiding them under her civvies. Shepard couldn’t for the life of her think of a reason why she’d kept them. It must have been that the trash bin was full. That was probably it. It was definitely it. Chellick was too busy to notice her presence, and Shepard realized that she was ogling his plates instead of helping. She cleared her throat, and he spun around.

“Shepard! I, ah.. can’t seem to reach. We’re a bit less malleable than humans, so..” He noticed he was babbling, and closed his mouth plates.

“Need a hand, Chellick?” Shepard felt like she was floating on a small cloud of selflessness.

“Nnngh, huh?” He looked thoroughly confused.

“With the medigel? I caused that, so it’s the least I can do. If you want me to, that is.”

He studied her face intently, trying to find if this was some sort of joke, but he found no trace of trickery in her demeanor, and decided to risk it.

“Uh, sure,” he said, handing over the medigel.

“All right, hold still. If it hurts, let me know and I’ll stop.”

She slathered the gel on her hands and started to gently stroke the

gelatinous fluid on his back plates and in the seams between them. Chellick let out a relieved sigh.

“That feels cool. I really appreciate this, Shepard.” His flanging voice was warm.

“No problem.” Shepard squeezed out more gel and applied it to his lower back.

“Let me see if I can really work it in there.”

“It’s really not as bad as-... wooheey!”

Chellick started squirming under her hands.

“Will you stand still, silly turian. You’ll get gel on both of us.”

“But, but that’s my _waist_!” He almost wailed.

“Yes, and it’s several shades of royal blue. Unless I get some gel on that, you’re in for a world of hurt. Now please stand still.”

Chellick forced himself to remain still, but he kept jerking and wriggling under her careful ministrations. Shepard gently kneaded the suede hide with light blue abrasions, and went on to stroke her thumbs tenderly over the darkest areas. Apparently Chellick had been hit more times than she intended. For a long while she absentmindedly kept stroking and kneading Chellick’s lower back and waist, when a sound coming from the turian caused her to snap out of it. It sounded like he was giving off a low hum, and his entire body felt like it was vibrating under her fingertips.

“Are you all right? Am I hurting you?” She got no reply, just a continuous low rumble, and Shepard was worried the damage to his plates was deeper then perceivable to the naked eye. She stopped stroking him. That seemed to wake him from his trance.

“Huh? No, I’m fine. I, uh..” His voice gave off some odd trills and a sound she could have sworn sounded like a growl. When he saw her giving him a strange look, he composed himself.

“I’m good, Shepard. Thank you for your, ah, help.”

“Anytime, buddy.”

To her own surprise, she meant it. She wondered how strong those pills were, to make her this friendly with a turian. He handed her a towel and she wiped her hands clean of gel.

As she turned to leave, Chellick was shifting his weight from one foot to the other. She’d seen that before among his fellow turians when they were getting ready for an unpleasant encounter. If she was lucky, she’d get out before-..

“Wait!”

Too late.

“Shepard, I need to ask you something.”

She still maintained some of that floating feeling of benevolence, and turned to him with a smile.

“Yes?”

“Would you ever, uh.. Have you ever thought of a turian, ah..” He shook his head, and steeled his resolve.

“Would you let me court you?”

Chellick’s words came fast, as if he expected her to make fun of him.

“No.” Her reply was soft.

“Why?” he asked in a low voice.

His green eyes met her bloodshot ones, and she knew all the reasons that would be a tremendous mistake. He was an alien, her mother would have a stroke, it was fraternizing with a possible enemy, he was spiky, she was soft, he had no lips, for crying out loud. All of these things and more ran through her mind, and she decided it was best to be honest and blunt.

“Captain Corinthus has forbidden it.”

Chellick and Shepard stared at each other, both equally stunned at her words. Shepard could think of no other reason for that stupid excuse than a severe case of head trauma from this afternoon. That turian doctor had probably only ever read a small pamphlet on human anatomy, because she was clearly concussed. Add to that those pain killers, and in five seconds she might be smooching Chellick like he was the last male in the galaxy if this went on.

“Is that true?” He sounded guarded, but hopeful.

Shepard told herself she should also tell him that she’d never consider dating one of the aliens that killed her father, but the words stuck in her throat. That was not Chellick’s fault. He was fun, and a good sport, and things were a lot easier when she disliked all turians just the same, her brain added.

“Yes. Because I’m a trainer, I can’t get involved with students in my group.” Lying by telling the truth, she thought. That was new for her. Chellick however, accepted her words readily and waggled his mandibles with a happy chuff.

“That’s a relief. I was worried it was because I’m a turian.”

For some reason she felt like crap. That was precisely the reason, and now she couldn’t tell him.

“I mean, we were enemies, but we’re here to build a new future, right? I’m sure many people would disapprove, but I’m glad you’re not one of them.”

For every word he spoke, she saw the hole she’d dug for herself get bigger, and there was no getting out. If only he wasn’t so damn _nice_.

“And it won’t be a problem next year, when I’m no longer your student.”

Shepard knew a lost cause when she saw it. Chellick was okay, and she could at least banter a little with him.

“Next year you’ll probably be plates deep in a turian first-year you’ve impressed with my fighting moves, Chellick. Don’t expect me to hold my breath.”

“Plates deep, huh? So you really did study those pictures. That’s.. very interesting, good to know.”

There was a sound of clanking metal as the lockers started to vibrate, and Chellick took a step back.

“All right, all right, just kidding.”

That little display took what little remained of her strength, and she leaned heavily against the door frame. Her body would remember this day for weeks, and Vyrnnus would be back soon.

“I need to get some rest, buddy. See you later.”

“Sure, Shepard. Sweet dreams, as you humans say it.”

As she walked out, she wondered about that remark. She wasn’t familiar enough with turian expressions to spot if his flared mandibles was more than a smile, and right now too tired to really care. It was likewise too late to take out the trash, she thought, and the reasoning behind that stray deduction made her blush. Happily there was no one there to see it.

 

**217** **3** **CE –** **November** **20** **th** **– Gagarin** **Station –** **Captain Corinthus’ office** **–** **1** **8** **:09** **PM**

The images hung on the walls outside Corinthus’ office had always fascinated Shepard, and while she was waiting for the captain to call for her, she wandered along the waiting room studying them. They depicted mostly scenes of war, turians fighting or dying, locked in a deadly embrace with enemies of all speices, but in the background of most of these paintings there was one or several ghostly  figures. In one memorable picture there was a turian cruiser locked in a dogfight with another vessel, but above the cruiser was a figure of an even larger turian ship, almost hidden in the dark backdrop of the galaxy. Shepard didn’t hear the captain coming out of his office, and he observed as she was lost in contemplation.

“You like turian art, Shepard?”

Pulling herself away from the image, she turned to face him.

“It’s very interesting, sir. Almost all of them seem to have a hidden figure somewhere in the frame.”

“Do you know why?”

“Something to do with religion, sir?”

“Something like that. It’s a depiction of the spirits belonging to that unit, or that place. I admit my interest lay mainly with military images, but that’s not all there is to our paintings or art. Will you step inside please?”

When they were inside he indicated for her to sit down, and he seated himself behind his desk.

“You have yet to have your operation, Shepard. Any particular reason?”

“No, sir. I just wanted to delay it until after thirex, so my guys were better prepared. I’m scheduled for the surgery on the 23rd, if there’s no delay.”

“Hmm, yes. About that, congratulations on your group coming first again. Sorry to pull away from the celebrations, but this is important.”

Corinthus tapped his talons on the desk, and the slight scraping noise gave Shepard a small tick in the corner of her eye. The blood from the burst vessels in her eyes was almost gone, but there was still a small red hue covering the whites of her eyes. Both Dmitri and Chellick had commented on her now looking like a krogan, and from the look of Corinthus, that had occurred to him too. When he just kept tapping and said nothing, she began to get nervous. When he finally broke the silence, he was very serious.

“Shepard, I need to tell you something. You need to hear me out, and not run out the door before you’ve heard it all. Are we clear?”

She nodded and braced herself for the worst.

“While training in the obstacle course this morning, Dmitri Basanov had an accident. He’s fine,” he added when he saw her jump out of her chair, “but he’s been unconscious for several hours. He woke up about two hour ago.”

“Why wasn’t I told? He’s on my team?”

“He’s on your biotics team, Shepard. That’s commander Vyrnnus’ sphere of influence. Not mine.”

She glowered at him.

“This is Vyrnnus’ doing, isn’t it? He did it!”

Corinthus was faster than her and blocked the door, preventing her from storming out.

“No. Basanov lost his grip and fell from the monkey bars. There was no biotic exercise involved.”

Shepard refused to believe the captain, and tried to pry herself past him. Corinthus merely leaned against the door, and her escape was shut.

“Listen, Shepard. You will gain nothing from yelling at Vyrnnus, besides landing yourself in trouble. He wants you to make a scene, so he can make an example of you.”

Corinthus and Shepard glared at each other, him feeling unnerved by her red stare and her feeling unease at the slow blinks he made with his deep seated eyes. To his surprise, she took a step back first.

“I want to see my friend,” Shepard said with a cracked voice.

“I’ll take you down there. But you will not make me regret this, understand?”

She agreed in a monotone murmur, and he stepped away from the door, offering her to exit first. Corinthus led the way to the hospital ward, with Shepard trailing silently behind.

 

**217** **3** **CE –** **November** **20** **th** **– Gagarin** **Station –** **Hospital wing** **–** **20** **:** **17** **PM**

The beeping monitor was getting on her nerves, but the dim lights was soothing. Dmitri was lying in a secluded area, and she figured it was because he was a biotic. The cast on his leg already carried several signatures, and she noted some of them were turian. She shook her head imperceptibly. She’d been the last to know about Dmitri’s accident, and she placed this fact squarely on Vyrnnus’ shoulders.

“Hey Shepard, did you sneak me some food?” came Dmitri’s weak voice from the bed.

“For being this clumsy you don’t deserve any food.”

He gave a small laugh, then winced when it caused him to move his leg.

“Cruel again. I’m sick, you must take care of me.”

“Right. Who’s gonna take care of me, when I become your bedmate in two days?”

“Bedmate? Oh, the implant. I remember now.” Dmitri gave her a sad smile.

“Shepard, I need to tell you something.”

“Oh gods. You and Corinthus just have an endless supply of bad news. All right, lay it on me.”

Dmitri looked down at his hands.

“I’m not getting the implant. I’m not even staying on this station after my leg heals.”

His hand fidgeted with the controller to the bed, and started raising it up so he could sit up and speak to her.

“You’re leaving? Because of a broken leg? Come on, Dmitri, that’s no more than a small bump in the road. Hey, I can break my leg and we can have a crutch race every weekend.”

Her mind refused to consider his words seriously. There was no way her best friend would abandon her alone here on the station.

“Please.”

The low plea made her shut up.

“I have been allowed to talk to my parents today. My mother was crying the entire time. She never wanted me to come here. My father wants me to join his company.”

“What do you want?” she asked quietly.

“I’m 16, I want to get laid.”

They both chortled, then sunk back into melancholy.

“Mother is very sick, Shepard. Something in the ship that landed beside our village. I became biotic, father became rich selling parts of wreck, and mother, she just got bad end of the stick.”

He stared into the ceiling.

“She worries too much. I worry for her.”

Shepard closed her eyes to prevent tears from starting to fall, but it failed.

“Then you must go home, Dmitri. Spend time with her.” She struggled to keep her tone even.

“Shepard...”

“I just.. fuck you, Dmitri. Fuck Vyrnnus, fuck this station, fuck everything.”

His bed sheets were clutched in her fists, and she made no attempt to hide her tears. He was infuriatingly calm, and he placed one of his large hands on top of hers.

“I know..”

She started wiping the tears away.

“Everyone wants to fuck me. That’s why I fall off monkey bars. No strength left in arms.”

Against her will, she started to grin through the tears.

“Are you seriously making fun of the fact that you’re ditching me alone here?”

“If it works..” He rubbed her hand.

“I really hate you right now, you know that?”

“Yes, I know that too. I don’t hate you. Dislike you, maybe.”

When she didn’t reply, they both sat quiet and listened to the beeping noise of the machinery for a while.

“I will stay until after your operation,” he finally said.

Her fingers interlaced with his, and gave him a soft squeeze.

“Thanks.”

Between good friends there was nothing more to say.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably it folks. For 2016, I mean. I will quite literally be driving home for Christmas next Thursday, and won't be able to publish anything for a while. (I think. If I get an overdose of santas, I might hide in a dark room and publish a short chapter.) I will have a new chapter out in two weeks, I promise. Merry Christmas everyone! :)


	10. Departures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard's operation did not go as intended, and her friends at the station is forced to wait it out, while trying not to kill each other.

**2173 CE – December 04 th – Gagarin Station – Hospital Isolation wing 15:16 PM**

Dmitri stood in shadow and waited for the visitor. After limping after the surgeon for near an hour he’d finally gotten the man to give him an update on Shepard’s status, which was sadly unchanged. The consensus among the medical staff was to keep her in a medically induced coma due to her reaction to the implant until the inflammation was reduced further, and Dmitri knew there was a possibility, however small, that she would never wake again. His father had already pulled him out of classes, but Dmitri kept insisting he be allowed to stay at the hospital, citing his injury and any other malady he could invent to avoid being shipped out. It was when he was pretending to faint on the turian receptionist, and he’d been left alone while the poor turian ran for help he happened to glance on the visiting logs for Shepard. There were several names, some turian, some human, but only one name was written in every day she’d been in isolation, and he wanted to have a few words with that particular turian. After standing here for almost an hour, his leg was starting to ache, and he leaned back against the wall. The station felt different to him already, as if he didn’t belong here anymore, and the one thing that kept him here was now defenseless and soon to be alone. If that Chellick character was getting ideas unfitting his station, Dmitri would have to make a point about that soon. Twenty minutes later he heard footsteps approaching. He said nothing as Chellick walked slowly up to the door of room 23 and peered through the glass. The turian remained silent, but reached his hand up and rested three talons on the glass as if he was waving to the girl inside. For some reason, this annoyed Dmitri to no end. He pushed off the wall and limped towards Chellick.

“So. Back again, I see,” he said with a menacing tone.

Chellick’s head jerked to the side, and when he saw Dmitri, he let his talons slide off the glass window.

“What of it? I’m not doing anything wrong,” he said with small smile.

“Remains to be seen. Why are you here every day?” Dmitri demanded.

“Same reason as you, I guess,” Chellick said.

Dmitri took one step closer and knew he was invading the turian’s space. He didn’t care.

“Careful, turian. Don’t think you know me. Or what I will do to you should you do something I dislike.”

“I’m making another guess and saying that list is somewhat long, Basanov.”

They glared at each other.

“It is. And if anything on that list includes Shepard, it becomes problem I have to deal with.”

A small chuffing sound escaped Chellick, and he gave Dmitri a look of pure disdain.

“Good luck with that, since you’re leaving soon and all. I’ll look after Shepard for you.”

Dmitri stared at the forward turian, before he lost his temper and punched him in the mandible. To Dmitri’s surprise, Chellick rolled with the punch to negate most of the power behind it. The turian retaliated by grabbing at his arm, and they grappled for a few seconds before Chellick suddenly had both his arms locked behind his back.

“I’m going easy on you, cripple,” Chellick hissed in his ear.

It occurred to Dmitri that Shepard might have trained her recruits a little too well, and not sparred enough with him. Still, bad leg or no, he still had an ace up his sleeve.

“Aw, you should not have.”

Dmitri’s body glowed purple, and Chellick was thrown across the room, slamming into the waiting room couch. He jolted back up and charged at Dmitri as a turian doctor appeared in search of the source of the ruckus.

“STOP! IMMEDIATELY!”

They froze.

“This is a hospital with sick patients, not a sparring ring. Mr Basanov, if you’re well enough to brawl, you’re well enough to leave. Recruit Chellick, you’re a guest in this hospital, I know you know the visiting rules for the human isolation wing, I made you read them three times.

“Yes sir,” the two boys chorused.

Doctor Publius studied the two culprits, then shot a glance at the door they both were here to visit, then scratched his fringe as an afterthought.

“Look, I know this is difficult for you, but this is the only warning you’ll get. One more incident, and you’re both out permanently. Understand?”

“Yes sir!”

Doctor Publius left them standing there, one with cheeks burning and one with a deflated fringe. Chellick was the first to speak.

“Hey, sorry for calling you a cr-..”

“Shut it, turian,” Dmitri cut him off. “I have a few more things to make clear for you. Shepard is family to me, so if you do anything to hurt her, I will kill you.”

Chellick gave him a skeptical eye. “You’re not related, and how will you do that when you’re off the station?”

Dmitri gave a mirthless laugh. “You think I can leave important project because my father asked nicely? No, he paid important men to get me out of here. My family has credits. Enough credits to pay some former mercenaries to find and kill a named turian idiot, even inside Hierarchy space. You understand now? And Shepard is family by choice. No blood required.”

Chellick seemed to mull the last part over for a while.

“So it’s like bonding, but not for mates? I didn’t know humans did that.”

“What? No, it’s not some weird turian thing, we have become like family, and I protect my family.”

“Yes, kin-bonding or clan-bonding, like I said,” Chellick said patiently.

“It’s NOT like that, it’s.. fuck it. Just as long as you know what I will do to you if you cross line.”

“I...see. And where is that line?” Chellick asked carefully.

Dmitri’s leg gave a painful twinge, and he sank into a chair. Chellick twitched his mandibles for a few seconds, and he sat down opposite Dmitri, awaiting his reply.                                                                             
“My damn leg hurts. What did you say earlier?”

“Where is the line?” Chellick repeated.

“Are you serious?”

“As a broken leg.”

Dmitri gave Chellick a suspicious glance, a sneaking realization appearing in his head. All those jokes on Shepard’s expense on admiring turians, and now there was probably one sitting in front of him, almost asking for permission to.. what? Date Shepard? Sleep with Shepard? He shuddered at the thought. And if Shepard had any deviant ideas of her own regarding said turian, remote as that possibility was, she’d probably rip his arm off if he interfered. He decided to play it safe now, and play merry hell on her later when recounting this conversation.

“The line is a hurt Shepard, either physically or emotionally,” he said aloud. “If that happens, I will hurt you.”

Perhaps it was only his imagination, but Chellick’s fringe seemed to perk up.

“Oh. That’s okay then. I get it. Male human display of protectiveness for kin-bonded. Turians have similar concept for when a suitor is perceived to maybe be inapt for bonding or mating.”

Dmitri visibly cringed. “Mating?”

Chellick gave him several slow uncertain blinks. “Yes. I know turians and humans have been at war for a long time, but you must know that it’s possible to date outside your species? I have a cousin that used to date an asari, and a friend of mine’s uncle had a quarian girlfriend. Humans are unusual, yes, but it will change.”

“Not for long while,” Dmitri whispered under his breath.

“Well, you’re all right, Basanov,” Chellick said as he got to his feet and sauntered off, “you have an open mind for interspecies-relationships.”

Dmitri stared slack-jawed after him. When had he ever said that? Shepard would kill him if he gave Chellick implicit sanction to date her and she hated the turian’s guts.

He got back on his feet and walked slowly over to the door, looking in and the sleeping figure inside. Dmitri leaned his forehead to the cold glass.

“Please get better, Shepard. I need you to laugh with me again before I go.”

The only answer he got was the blinking of the machines within.

 

 

**2173 CE – December 05 th – Gagarin Station – Hospital Isolation wing 17:26 PM**

The game of solitaire was going badly, and Dmitri decided to sort to a little shameless cheating. He flipped a few more cards, and deftly swapped them for a few of the turned down cards locked under a very stubborn queen of hearts. The new cards would unlock more of the down-turned cards, and he smiled to himself, when he suddenly became aware that a certain turian knave was looking over his shoulder.

“Is that allowed?” Chellick asked.

“Not really, but I don’t mind,” Dmitri said.

“Hmm.. I see.”

The turian walked over to the door and looked inside. He did the same thing with his talons as yesterday, but today Dmitri didn’t mind. For some reason, he felt sorry for the lovesick turian. Perhaps it was the fact that his hopes would be dashed when Shepard woke up, or that Dmitri himself had been in love with a girl he couldn’t have back on earth. Perhaps it was that the holidays would soon be upon them, and he always liked this one. His parents was devout followers of the old orthodox church, and while he himself was a bit more ambivalent on the subject of a god, he enjoyed the celebrations with his family to the fullest. Traditional food, songs and customs that belonged to his homeland, and a few traditions that had traversed country borders and space beyond. He glanced at the turian again. Maybe there was some yuletide fun to be had here too.

“Hey, Chellick,” he called out not to loud, “how about game of skyllian five?”

The turian turned around with a puzzled look on his face. “With me?”

Dmitri rolled his eyes. “I would prefer Shepard, but in pinch I will take her turian.”

“I’m not.. I haven’t..” Chellick stammered.

“Not at the rate you are going, no. Want some advice?” he said innocently.

The turian's eyes narrowed. “Yesterday you were going to hire someone to murder me. Today you want to help me? Forgive me for saying this, but that’s highly suspicious.”

“You’re forgiven. Now sit scaly ass down.”

Chellick slowly sat down, keeping his eyes on Dmitri the whole time.

“Now, it cannot have escaped your notice that human holiday is coming. There is not much done on station, but some posters are hanging around the place and two glowing figures are put in the mess hall. You have seen this, yes?”

“Yeees,” Chellick drawled uncertainly. “Don’t know what it’s about, really.”

“Neither do we humans,”Dmitri grinned. “For some, it’s celebration of birth of savior, for others winter solstice on earth, or rebirth of heathen god, depends on your faith. The only thing that is truly universal among humans is tradition of the mating stick.”

Chellick sat upright and stared at Dmitri with an almost hungry expression.

“Ah, yes, it is old tradition from human stone age. You see, when humans used only stone tools, the way of getting a mate was to sneak up behind them and whack them over the head with wooden club, then drag them back to cave. Both males and females did this, but now we are more civilized. We sneak up behind potential mate with small stick, smack them gently on the head with it to show that we have ‘captured’ them, and if they are not opposed to maybe share cave sometime in future, they bestow on the smacker a human gesture of affection. If they are not interested, they simply leave.”

Chellick listened with rapt attention, and Dmitri had to bite his tongue to not laugh.

“Do you have such a stick?” Chellick asked in an offhand manner.

“No, but I think I could procure one. If I knew the receiver had honest intentions...”

Their conversation was interrupted by a small medical team lead by a woman Dmitri had never seen before. She had pale bangs with silver streaks, standard alliance medical uniform, and carried herself like a woman who would stab you with the syringe if you gave her any trouble. They stopped outside Shepard’s room and exchanged a few hushed words. Dmitri tensed and rose from his chair, and Chellick followed suit. They made their way over to the door.

“Excuse me, who are you?” Dmitri asked brazenly from the woman.

She raised her eyebrow at his impertinent question, and her eyes flickered between him and the attending surgeon. The surgeon gave a slight sigh.

“Dr. Chakwas, this is Dmitri Basanov.”

Chellick made a small cough.

“And Decian Chellick. They’re friends of Shepard and keep pestering everyone that passes by.”

Chakwas swiftly turned her head and nailed the turian with a withering stare. He shrunk under her gaze at first, then pushed his chest out and met her eyes. Her upper lip curled for half a second, but Dmitri was unable to recognize the emotion behind it.

“How quaint. Two white knights guarding a maiden,” she said.

“Now you know us, who are you?” Dmitri persisted.

“I’m Karin Chakwas, doctor in the Alliance Navy, and I’m here as a favor for a friend. That’s all you need to know.”

Next it was Chellick that spoke: “Is Shepard so sick that her mother felt it necessary to call in the cavalry?”

“I never mentioned Shepard’s mother,” Chakwas said with a bemused expression.

“Didn’t need to,” he replied curtly.

Dmitri was glad Chellick had the wherewithal to ask questions, as he himself was now getting visibly worried.

Karin Chakwas watched the two boys intently, then finally said: “Things are taking a little longer than we would have wanted. I’m here to hurry things along a bit. Don’t worry, your friend is in good hands.”

She turned around to leave, then apparently remembered something and turned back.

“Is by any chance your father Yuri Basanov?”

“Yes. Do you know him?”

“No. Not at all, but I know someone that did,” she smiled at him and left with the team.

“ _Decian_? Really?” Dmitri said.

“Beats Dmitri in any case,” the turian replied with a mandible flare. “Do you think that new doctor will help?”

“If Shepard’s mother sent her, I doubt it will hurt,” Dmitri said, “probably knows all about family medical history.”

“Probably. Look, I need to get back to the barracks. Keep an eye on things for m-.. for Shepard.”

Dmitri pretended he hadn’t heard that little slip.

“No problem. See you tomorrow.”

 

 

**2173 CE – December 06 th – Gagarin Station – Hospital Isolation wing 18:10 PM**

The figure in the bed was jerking intermittently as if in pain, and Dmitri awaited every spasm with trepidation. Chakwas and her team had been inside earlier in the day, and Shepard’s new doctor had decided to attempt to bring her gradually out of the coma to see if there had been any brain damage from the operation. The regular doctor had told Dmitri that Shepard’s movements and twinges were completely natural, and to be expected when muscles started to reactivate and the brain attempting to assert control again, but to him it looked painful. Another twinge caused Shepard to knock her elbow in the side rail of the bed, and he had to look away.

“What’s going on?” came Chellick’s concerned voice.

“Hey _Decian_. That Chakwas woman has decided to wake Shepard up.”

“She’s awake?” Chellick pushed Dmitri aside, ignoring the jibe at his name and stared through the window.

“Hey! No pushing the cripple. And no, she is not awake yet.”

“Why is she moving like that?”

“Because her body and her brain is not cooperating with one another,” Dmitri said, starting to hobble towards the waiting room. He sat down and pulled out his deck again, leaving Chellick to gaze through the window for a while. With nothing to do but wait, he started laying down a castle. The soft ‘flip’ sounds of the cards being placed down was familiar and soothing. Halfway done with the game, he saw the shadow of a turian fall over the table. Dmitri said nothing, merely continued to flip cards. After a while, Chellick cleared his throat. “So, is she going to be okay?”

Dmitri shrugged and placed another card. “They think there is good chance.”

“That’s good then. That she’ll get better.” The turian hesitated, fidgeting with his talons, then asked; “So, about that mating stick...”

Dmitri stifled a laugh, then beamed at the turian. “Not to worry, my fringed friend. I will help a fellow recruit out. When my father’s ship arrives, I will get you the goods.”

“Yeah? That’s fantastic! I will never forget this, Basanov,” Chellick said with a grateful grin.

“Always glad to be of service, Decian.”

Chellick was too happy to notice the all too polite demeanor from the human. Dmitri felt a fleeting happiness that he probably would be long gone when Chellick tried to solicit intimacy from Shepard by hitting her with a small piece of wood. When the turian was out of earshot, he broke into a very undignified fit of giggles.

 

 

**2173 CE – December 07 th – Gagarin Station – Hospital Isolation wing 14:10 PM**

“That’s beginning to look good on you, Shepard,” Dmitri grinned at his friend.

She’d opened her eyes that morning, and they were as reddened and bloody as they were when she’d done the ball tornado. Chakwas had stopped him from rushing in with the medical team, and kept him outside all day. He’d not even been allowed to wait in the waiting room outside Shepard’s room, but was shoved ungracefully into the reception area. Furious at this, he spent the morning showing his naked backside to the turian receptionist, encouraging some female human recruits to ask the same receptionist about loosened plates and singing woeful Russian ballads outside the emergency entrance area.

Finally the receptionist gave in and called for dr. Chakwas. She arrived shortly after the buzzer sounded.

“Mr. Basanov. You’re quite the showman, I’m told. Stripping, singing and interesting conversation topics. Might we be looking at the new male escort of Gagarin Station?”

“No one can resist me, that is why you will let me see Shepard,” he said and gave a sarcastic bow.

She beamed at him. “Am I now? And if I say I will have you thrown out on your little behind for bothering the staff?”

“But you have not seen my willy helicopter yet. It’s said to be very.. hypnotic,” Dmitri replied dead serious.

At this Chakwas broke into a laugh. “Oh, you’re quite incorrigible, young man. All right, 10 minutes, that’s all! And no amount of swinging genitals will prolong that time limit, are we clear?”

“But of course,” he said politely.

 

* * *

And now he was at last face to face with Shepard. She looked tired and worn, but was glad to see him.

“Shove off, Dmitri, I look gorgeous, and you know it.” Her chuckle turned into a cough.

“I would never say otherwise, my krogan-faced beauty.”

Shepard started coughing even harder. When she got her breath back, she was grinning like an idiot.

“Charming, aren’t you?” she said.

“You know it. But I’m not the only one dying to see you, you know.”

“Really? Vyrnnus been by for a quick throttle?”

“Nope, you’re still alive, yes? But you got the species right.

“A turian? Chellick?” she asked with a weary smile.

“Aha! I knew you were carrying on with that turian hotcake. Pervert!”

“Say what? Whose brain were inflamed again? Chellick is nice, but I haven’t been tearing his clothes off or anything.”

“Lies, filthy lies. Why else would he be here every day, scratching at door to get in, like trained house cat?”

“Been dipping into the medicinal spirits, Dmitri?” She paused. “Every day?”

“And now she has converted to talking about spirits,” Dmitri railed on, “eew, imagine how kids would look. Soft pink scales, red eyes, short fringe and tiny tiny talons. Like deformed shrimp.”

“Shut up, nitwit, or I’ll fry your brain with my new power.” Shepard made several slow dramatic gestures aimed at Dmitri’s head. “Wooooh, I can’t do it, there’s nothing in there. That explains a lot.”

He shrugged at her. “Pathetic attempt to hide from truth. But Chellick is not the worst, I suppose, if you had to stray from human path.”

She met his gaze with a strange smile. “No, I guess he’s not.” Dmitri cocked his head with a quizzical look, and returned her smile. They sat there for a while, saying nothing, just enjoying the others company until dr. Chakwas appeared and ordered him out.

 

 

**2173 CE – December 07 th – Gagarin Station – Hospital Isolation wing 17:41 PM**

“But Basanov got to see her!” Chellick growled at the receptionist.

“That was a special concession from her doctor. Her _human_ doctor,” the receptionist emphasized. Chellick slammed both hands on the counter and his growl went so low his second voice box broke a few times, causing a crack in his attempted threat.

“Spirits.” The brown-plated turian decided he was not payed enough to listen to nutty teenagers all day and pressed for the doctor again. Chellick pushed off the counter and turned to face what he assumed was security. Instead he saw the pale haired doctor again approaching them with a small smile.

“Mr. Chellick, was it? Been flashing your knickers at poor Liscus here, have you?”

Liscus rolled his eyes and went back to his datapad.

“Flashing my knickers?” Chellick asked with a hint of uncertainty.

“Your friend Mr. Basanov has been pulling off his pants all midday, all but singing and dancing to get my attention. I’m somewhat disappointed you’re on such good behavior.”

Chellick’s neck flushed blue. Surely this woman wasn’t expecting him to behave in such a human fashion?

“Relax. Just funning with you. Let me guess, you want to see Shepard.” She gave him a long inscrutable look. “But are you sure she wants to see you? You must know her family history, not a lot of love for turians there.”

He looked away. “Shepard’s not like that.”

“I can see you believe that. Careful of putting people on a pedestal. You might be disappointed.”

“I’m glad I’m not as cynical as you people.” His voice was defiant.

“There really is no stopping puppy love, is there.”

“Puppy?”

“Never mind. I will give you 5 minutes, as it’s been a long day for her.”

“Sure! I’ll take it.”

She signaled him to follow.

 

* * *

Chellick walked quietly into the room where Shepard was resting. At first it seemed like she was sleeping, and he felt like an interloper, but decided to take a seat next to the bed. She heard the creak of the chair, and turned her head to the sound. When she caught sight of him, she gave him a drowsy smile.

“Hey you. Keeping out of trouble?”

He was happy she didn’t know what a foolish turian grin looked like. “Yeah, as much as you are. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by hundreds of small flying objects,” she joked.

“Ouch. Know the feeling of that. Want me to give you a rub?” he offered with mandibles flaring.

“Don’t make promises you won’t keep, buddy.”

“I would keep that one, if you would ever want to, ah, avail yourself of my talents.”

This made her laugh and cough again, and the smile vanished from his face. “Shepard, are you okay? Should I call the doctor?”

She got it under control while subconsciously patting his hand. “Don’t worry. Don’t want to get yourself thrown out that fast, do you?”

“No, I don’t want that,” he replied quietly, watching her hand on top of his.

Shepard followed his eyes. “Sorry, is this some sort of taboo again?” She moved her hand slightly, but he gently grabbed it and pushed it down again. “No, this is.. nice. Really nice.”

Their eyes met for a few seconds, and they both gave an embarrassed chuckle.

“Ah, how’s the training going, with me out of the loop?”

“Fine! It’s fine, uh, not as eventful, of course, but I think we’re doing.. fine.”

“That’s fine, then.”

They laughed again.

“I will need some time to recuperate, so you’re stuck with the substitute until then.”

“Spirits willing, that won’t be long. You will come and watch us, right? To make sure we’re not falling too far behind?” he said eagerly.

“If you want me to.”

“I want you to.”

His remark was followed by another silence, but this one seemed more comfortable than the last.

They were interrupted by three quick raps at the door, signaling the visit’s end. Chellick slowly got up and only reluctantly released her hand. Shepard gave him a small wave as he walked out.

 

* * *

Karin Chakwas watched as the turian cavalier left. This was one thing that would be left out of her report to Hannah Shepard, that was certain. If Jane wanted to befriend turians while she was here, that was none of Karin’s business, and hopefully there would not come any harm from it. She had to remind herself it wasn’t like before, they weren’t enemies anymore. She herself found dr. Publius to be both highly intelligent and polite to a fault, but she still felt a cold chill if he came upon her without warning. Hannah would never have let her guard down around these turians, and some of them did seem if not overtly hostile, then pointedly aloof. She suspected it had something to do with her uniform. It was a good idea of Conatix to make all the students and the staff were their brand of clothing. Her Alliance uniform stuck out like a sore thumb. Chakwas jotted down a few more notes, then prepared to break for evening meal. Hopefully there were no more troublesome teenagers eager to visit her patient.

 

 

**2173 CE – December 10 th – Gagarin Station – Docking area 09:10 AM**

Dmitri’s father had been rather puzzled when his son asked him for the mistletoe replica on the ship. Yuri Basanov was even more baffled when Dmitri tied the sprig to the end of a wooden stick and wrapped the contraption in a piece of cloth, but he was completely stumped when this was handed over to an anxious turian that kept scanning the surroundings for something or someone. His son whispered something in the turian’s ear, and the alien clasped the stick to his chest as if it was some treasure he found, vanishing in the crowd. Dmitri wore an expression he knew only too well, the satisfied grin of a well fed cat, but he decided not to pry too deep.

“So, was that friend you keep talking about? A little less cute than I imagined,” he said to his feline son.

“That was _Decian_ Chellick, and I have either given him road to salvation or perdition.”

“Will this cause problems later?” Basanov the elder asked his son.

“Yes.”

“For yourself?”

“Heh, not for long time, but yes.”

“I see. Will you be deserving of it?” Basanov raised an eyebrow at Dmitri.

“Oh yes,” the boy smiled.

“тогда ладно, it will be your problem.”

“Yes. Look, there she is!”

Yuri Basanov looked to where Dmitri was pointing, and saw a girl with short cropped hair and a pair of crutches hobbling towards them. She seemed unimposing at first sight, but as she got closer he saw the muscles in her arms that stood out from the strain of compensation for her limp. Basanov had a hunch he was not the first to make the mistake of prejudging the girl. After all, she was her mother’s daughter.

“There you are, you Russian layabout. I’m for all intents and purposes disabled and infirm, and still I have to come to you.”

Basanov the elder took a few steps back and listened with an amused expression on his face.

“I know I am irresistible to ladies.” Dmitri winked at Shepard. “So why are _you_ here?”

“Oh, haha, if I didn’t know how easy it is to beat you, I would hit you myself. Heard a first-year got the drop on you, and you even had first strike.” She smirked at the thought.

“Your little disciple exaggerates, he only wants to woo you into his nest.”

“Sure. At least he’s prettier than you.”

“No one is prettier than me. But since you cannot have me, I don’t place blame for throwing yourself at anything that is near. Even turians.”

“Hah! As if you..-”

 

* * *

Yuri Basanov strolled over to the vending machine on the other side of the waiting lounge and bought something that resembled food while he waited. His son and the Shepard girl needed some time to swap insults as they would not see each other again for a long while. He heard Dmitri laugh out loud at something Shepard said, and couldn’t resist smiling himself. His son spent the last entire summer going Shepard this and Shepard that, making both him and his mother thinking he was in love with the girl, but he saw no evidence of that today. Only two troublemakers enjoying the others company. He hoped for their sake they’d stay in touch. He let them have the better part of half an hour, before he broke up the pair.

“Miss Shepard, nice to meet you at last,” he said as he walked up to them.

“Mr. Basanov, it’s a pleasure to meet you at last.”

“Indeed. Now I am sorry for interrupting my sons effort at forgetting all his manners in the company of women, but we must be off.”

“Are you a woman,” Dmitri whispered to Shepard and got a small punch in the arm for his efforts.

“Ow. Obviously not.”

“Come here, Dmitri,” she said emphatically, and pulled him into a big hug, holding on for a long while. Against his solid frame she felt rather small. “You won’t make me cry again, you big lug,” she said with a croaked voice. Dmitri cleared his throat twice before answering. “Never on purpose, Jane.”

 

Yuri Basanov saw the pair hug one more time before parting, and his son slowly got out of her embrace and started walking towards him in a quick pace. Dmitri said nothing as he passed, but Basanov spotted that his eyes were glazed as he passed and let him be. Shepard waved to them, and both Basanovs raised their hand one last time before heading into the air sluices.

 

* * *

Shepard turned around to leave, and almost bumped into commander Vyrnnus.

“Careful Shepard,” he said in an overly supercilious voice. “It’s hard to lose the one person you could count on in here, I understand, but you still need to watch out.”

She made no reply, and he seemed almost disappointed.

“Well, not to worry. I’m sure if you keep your head down and know your place, things will go better for you. Now run along, or, shuffle, rather. I do so look forward to having you back in class.”

He left her there, glowering in the middle of the lounge, with no immediate comeback and no Dmitri as backup.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again and happy new year. This chapter is a bit more slow moving, but I felt it was necessary for a little character development. Hopefully it will be an enjoyable read. :)


	11. Pranks and perverts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard's best friend has left the station, but can a burgeoning friendship with a turian help with loneliness?

**217** **3** **CE –** **December 10** **th** **– Gagarin Station** **–** **Mess Hall 19:0** **4** **PM**

 Shepard was quiet as she carried her tray in one hand to the furthermost table and sat down far from the others. It was quite the balancing act on crutches, but she managed with moderate success, avoiding spilling on the floor. She maneuvered herself down on the bench and placed the crutches next to her. Usually she’d sit beside Dmitri and joke about the food or classes, but today the familiar back chatter of the hall felt foreign, and she idly played with the liquid that passed for sauce on her plate. When a few minutes had passed, there was a rustle near her and Chellick unceremoniously plopped down on the seat next to her with his tray. He pretended not to notice her, and started unpacking the small packets of dextro nutrients on the tray.

A few seconds later another turian dropped down in the spot opposite hers, and gave her a cheeky grin.

“Hey coach,” he said and started unwrapping his food. Shepard recognized the beige-plated turian she’d given a thorough wallop on her first day as trainer. His name was Emerus Victus, and he was one of the cockiest little devils she’d ever met. After their first dramatic encounter they’d gone along very well on the training yard, but this was the first time he’d ever talked to her outside their classes.

“Hello Shepard.” A third turian sat down beside her, and this was Arista Nerva, one of the few female turians in her group. Shepard had been on the business end of Arista’s short jab more times than she cared to admit, and the turian would become a formidable fighter with a little more training.

“Hey Shepard,” another batch of students chorused. This was composed by both turians and humans, Celsus Corinthus among them, and they all piled in on her table. She gave Chellick a _look_ from the corner of her eye, but apart from a slight waggling from his mandibles, he made no reply, merely continued eating from his tray. Further down the table several hands, both turian and humans waved at her, and she halfheartedly waved back.

“Not eating, Shepard? Mind if I throw your food on Arista, we think she might be allergic.” Emerus’ voice rang out.

The female called Arista bristled at the comment. “Don’t even thing about it, Victus. You’re just mad I beat your sorry crest in training, again. Not my fault you leave yourself wide open on the left.”

“No, that’s Shepard’s fault,” Emerus said, giving Shepard a scathing look. “You’ve been gone for weeks, leaving us at the mercy of that wimp of a substitute. He doesn’t dare touch us turians, how are we to learn when we leave our flanks open.”

“Emerus,” Chellick warned. Shepard started to smile against her will, and realized she’d actually missed training these twerps.

“It’s okay, Chellick. I almost forgot what delicate things turians are.”

There was a chorus of chuffs and protests around the table, with the odd human voice laughing in support. “I’ll be back in no time, and woe betide the student that fucks up at firex. He or she will be forced to spar with Victus for the remainder of the year.”

“Oh, hardy har, our trainer had her brain swapped with that of a comedian,” Emerus grumbled, but with no malice behind his words. He looked slightly downcast, and Shepard wondered if he had intended to guilt-trip her, because she did feel culpable that she’d not been around to help him with his defense.

“Say what Victus, I’ll come by classes tomorrow and see what needs to be fixed, and I’ll give you a few pointers to start with, how’s that?”

Emerus looked surprised, but pleasantly so. “Really? That’d be great. It’s not like I don’t like getting pinned down by a female, but it would be nice to be on top once in a while.”

There was dispersed snickering at the table, and Shepard tried to hide a grin behind her hand. It fooled no one. The group was a little astounded that Shepard would take time out of her recuperation to come help them in training, particularly so soon after her friends departure, but they were glad of it. Some of them had gone to visit while she was in a coma, though none quite as often as Chellick. They missed her training style, but to discover she could be pleasant and accommodating after class was an unexpected bonus. She glanced at Chellick again. Something in his expression looked remarkably smug, even if it was difficult to tell with turians. She gave him a small discreet kick under the table, making him spill some of his water, but it did nothing to remove the smirk. Despite she never cared for being manipulated, this time she was grateful to Chellick for providing her distraction, and she gave up being pig headed. She gave his arm a quick pat and started to eat. The gesture almost caused Chellick to drop his mug in amazement, but Shepard didn’t notice.

If she didn’t, Emerus did. He fluttered his mandibles to Chellick, but kept his mouth shut. His friend gave him a deadly glare, daring him to ruin the moment for him, but Emerus wasn’t that unkind. Shepard was an unpredictable one, and Chellick was more than capable of ruining things on his own. Best not to piss her off now that she’d promised to help him with his open flank.

 

 

**217** **3** **CE –** **December** **21** **st** **– Gagarin Station** **–** **Sparring Ring 10:05 AM**

“Come on Victus, strike-swipe, strike-swipe!” Shepard shouted, gesturing wildly from the sidelines now that she was free of the crutches.

Captain Corinthus sat several rows up in the bleachers, and he still heard her bellowing over the rest of the crowd. It was no wonder that Emerus Victus heard as well, Corinthus mused, and the young turian who’d been taking a beating in the ring up until now switched to alternating between short strikes and leg swipes, and it was his opponents turn to struggle.

“Finish him!” Shepard yelled, and Victus managed to catch his opponent unaware with a grapple hold and slammed him into the mat. Her team erupted in cheers, and the sight of humans and turians jumping up and down together in celebration made Corinthus shake his head. Crazy kids. Beside him commander Vyrnnus made a disapproving clicking sound.

“Barely good enough,” he scoffed.

“A win is a win, commander,” Corinthus said.

“No, it’s not. Sloppy is still sloppy.”

“Give it a rest, Shepard’s been out of it for weeks.”

“Oh, I know it’s not Shepard. Shepard is trained by me. It’s your people that can’t keep up.”

Corinthus turned to face Vyrnnus. “Are you questioning my ability to train fighters, _commander_? Lofty title, for a common space pirate.”

“This space pirate has a trainee whom defeated your group of fighters with a few flying rubber balls. Yes, I know about that, even if you could not be bothered to inform me about the incident. What’s more, I don’t like it when you interfere with my training of Shepard. It was not your place to inform her about Basanov’s injury,” Vyrnnus snarled.

“She’s one of my trainers, that makes it my place,” Corinthus growled back. Luckily then din of the crowd veiled most of their argument.

“Not after this year. Then the prestige project of the Alliance and the Hierarchy reverts back to me.”

“Why is that human so important to you?”

Vyrnnus gave a barking laugh. “Not important at all. But Conatix has changed my contract after that Basanov boy left. The more powerful I can get them, the more credits I get. The more that survive and join their army, the more credits I get. And Shepard, well.. she comes with a large bonus.”

He leaned close to Corinthus while his subvocals thrummed threatening; “If you lose me those credits, captain, you’ll regret it. I still have people out there.”

“Threats will not avail you with me, mercenary! You should be in a cabal where you belong!” Corinthus thrummed back.

Around them other turians had sensed their use of hostile subvocals and were starting to glance at them with worried looks.

They broke off sat back in their seats.

“Why do you care about the humans, Corinthus? What’s in it for you?” Vyrnnus sneered in a low voice.

“Peace, and the future, Vyrnnus.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t mention those precious damned spirits of yours as well.”

The remark made Corinthus gasp, and Vyrnnus smirked.

 

 

**217** **3** **CE –** **December** **2** **4** **th** **– Gagarin Station** **–** **S** **hepard’s room 20:06 PM**

There was no Christmas things in Shepard’s room, but even so she was still feeling a little holiday cheer. It made her tidy up and clean her room a little extra, leaving the door a little ajar to get a little fresh air in from the air vents in the corridor. Earlier today she’d been allowed to call her mother, and even though the signal had been bad, it’d been great to talk to her again. She couldn’t really complain to anyone at the station about missing Dmitri and feeling alone, but it helped to talk to her mother. Hannah had promised to send a message to Dmitri, wishing him a merry Christmas and telling him that he was definitely under no circumstances missed at all. Shepard knew he wold understand the very personal message just fine, and maybe send one back in return. After 15 minutes the room was spick and span, and with no other chores pending she decided to practice her card shuffling skills. She made a point of never cheating when she played with Dmitri, but it never hurt to keep up that particular art. She recalled uncle David teaching her the sleight of hand to do card tricks when she was 12, and when he saw she had the dexterity for it, he also taught her to cheat at poker. He made her promise she’d never tell her mother, and she had only ever used her talent to win treats off Wreav and Wrex, against her mother’s instructions regarding sweets. The nostalgic memories made her play with the deck of cards absentmindedly, and she never heard Chellick sneak into her room with his stick at the ready.

 

**‘ _Thwack!’_**

 

Something slapped her in the back of the head, and Shepard jumped to her feet while 52 cards flew all over the room. Once on her feet she spun around and grabbed the assailant by the throat and slammed him into the wall.

“Chellick!? What the hell?!” she roared in his face.

With her hands around his throat and one hand clasping the stick, he couldn’t fend her off effectively, and only managed to croak a few noises in his defense. After breathing heavily for a few seconds, she let the turian go and crossed her arms.

“Explanation, NOW!”

With his free hand, Chellick rubbed his neck while gasping for air. “Humans. Stone age. Caves. Civilization.” His words made no sense to her, and she raised an eyebrow at him. He sank down to the floor, looking completely deflated. “Human tradition of the holiday. Mating stick. Dmitri said..” he cut himself off, and looked down. On closer inspection she saw that a small plastic mistletoe was tied to the end of the stick, and upon hearing Dmitri’s name alarm bells went off in her head. If he had a hand in this, then Chellick might be the real victim here.

She walked over to kneel beside him, and gently took the stick from him. “Hey you. Come with me now.” He refused to budge from the floor. “Please, Chellick,” she said and looped her fingers around his talons. Slowly he rose back up, and let himself be led to sit down on the bed. The two chairs in the room was rather rickety, and this was more cozy. It was Christmas after all.

“Will you tell me what Dmitri told you?” she asked with a comforting smile. He remained silent.

“I’m not above saying please again,” she joked and gave him a small nudge with her shoulder. This finally made him give a nervous chuckle, and he painstakingly recanted Dmitri’s tale of the mating stick-tradition. Shepard did her best not to smile. This was typical Dmitri, but Chellick was turian and perhaps not used to be made fun of in this way. He seemed very upset, and Shepard felt a swell of sympathy for the turian.

“You know, Dmitri’s story contains a grain of truth.”

“Yeah? Which part? The part where the female clubs the male over the head?” he asked sadly.

“No, not that part. But the mistletoe is a part of human christmas tradition.” She liberated the plastic sprig from the stick, and on spur of the moment held it over them.

“What does that mean?” Chellick said, ogling her with big green eyes.

“It means, I should give you a kiss. If you want.” Shepard felt like she was all of a sudden skating on thin ice now, but was unable to stop.

“Kiss?”

“A token of human affection, if you will.”

“You will? I mean, yes, please.” He seemed perplexed, but not about to let this opportunity slip from his talons. Shepard wondered what the hell she was doing, but decided if she’d said A, she might as well say B.

“Okay, now just sit still. It won’t hurt.” She raised one hand and cupped one mandible, turning his head towards her, then tenderly placed her lips on his mouth plates. He moved slightly in surprise, but sat still and left everything to her. When she pulled back he followed her movement, prolonging the intimacy for a few seconds. When their heads parted, his eyes shone like green stars.  
“That was.. nice.”

“Heh, yes, it was.” Shepard was shocked that she had enjoyed it. Even worse was the fact that she wanted to try it again.

“Still, it seems a bit weird. You just press your mouths together? That’s it?” Chellick scooted a little closer. Shepard’s mouth suddenly felt very dry, and she swallowed.

“Well, no. That was the light version. Humans often open their mouths and play with their partners tongue.”

“Really? That sounds.. strange.” He sounded a little creeped out.

“Perhaps it is. You’re kind of tasting your partner, getting a feel for how he likes to play. Some researchers say when humans kiss the female subconsciously picks up if their partner’s pheromones are likable.”

“We should try that then,” he said with fervor.

“You didn’t sound convinced earlier,” she replied smiling.

“Oh, I’m convinced. Show me.”

He was sitting very close now, looking directly into her eyes. She decided to just let this stream carry them wherever it was headed. She sat up and got close to him again, almost close enough to kiss.

“Open your mouth just a little, Decian.”

When she said his first name, he shuddered, but did as she asked. She pushed her lips against his plates again, snaking the tip of her tongue out and gave him a small lick.

Chellick gave another little jerk, then slipped his own tongue out to meet hers. Meeting it with her own, she gave it a few soft playful twirls before she sucked it into her own mouth. He seemed a little taken aback, but responded by clasping his hands around her hips and pulling her towards him. Shepard had a vague feeling this was not a good idea, but slipped into his lap nonetheless. Chellick responded by giving a low hum she remembered from that day in the locker room. When she reached up and started stroking his cowl, she felt a small vibration coming from his chest. It felt soothing, and he was learning tongue play at a breakneck pace. She had to break from their kiss to gasp when he inadvertently rubbed against her breasts, and he used this distraction to nuzzle the line of her neck. Shepard started to feel a little too aroused for her own good, there was something nagging in the back of her head, but when Chellick was gently lapping at her neck it was difficult to think clearly. Something about turians? Gods, now he was breathing heavily in her ear. Something about Emerus? Why was she thinking about several turians now? This was not… ‘ _Arista_!’ The image of the female turian flashed in her mind, and she remembered what it was.

“Stop! Chellick, wait!”

He pulled away immediately, looking startled.

“What? Did I do it wrong?”

“No, you did...just fine. I just remembered something. Did you take the allergy test?”

He blinked slowly. “Hmm? What test? The levo-sensitivity one?”

“The very one. Well?”

“I can’t dheally dheemembeh. I donht thinhk tho.”

Shepard gawked at Chellick as his speech became more slurred. If he was having a reaction this quick, he might actually die of shock. “Hey, we need to get you to the medical wing, now.” She slid off his lap and tried to pull him up. Instead he slumped back and started twitching.

“No no no, come on, don’t do this to me.” She climbed up beside him to make sure he didn’t suffocate while she ran for help. As she started to shove him into a more safe position, he grabbed her and flipped himself on top of her. There as a mischievous glint of green above her. “That’s for the mating stick, cruel human.”

“Chellick? You.. you bastard!” she cried out and started smacking him with the pillow. “I actually believed.. Next time you can just curl up into a ball and die, you know that?!”

He shrugged. “As long it was in your bed, I don’t mind.”

“And the stick thing wasn’t my idea,” she said, calming down a bit. “Gods, you gave me such a fright. Are you sure you’re not allergic?”

“I’m fine. Took the test before I came her. My mom is a bit paranoid, thinking some human would bleed all over me. Somehow I never think she pictured this.” He grinned.

Shepard exhaled deeply. “That was so not funny.”

“I disagree.”

Shepard rubbed her face in her hands, and he rolled off to lie beside her.

“You know, you’ve practically seduced me now.”

His comment caused her to splutter and laugh out loud.

“Come on, one kiss does not a seduced turian make.”

“No matter how you stack your words, it’s true. First you dominate me out on the field, that is something of a turn-on for turians. Then you almost have your way with me in the locker room, rubbing and stroking my waist until I’m basically purring for you,” he said, letting his voice drop low and giving another hum.

“Your waist? That’s a turian thing?” she asked with a skeptical look.

“Oh yes. It’s very much a thing. Highly sensitive erogenous area. Imagine my surprise when you ordered me to stand still so you could rub on me.”

“Oh NO!” Shepard closed her eyes and let her head fall into the mattress. “Oh no no no. I am so sorry, Chellick, I didn’t know.”

He snorted. “Obviously. And today you sit on my lap and taste me. What’s a simple turian to think?”

She responded with a long drawn-out groan. “Corinthus is going to kill me.”

Chellick laughed quietly. “I remember you saying that. Don’t worry, I respect your duty. I will wait, now that I know you can’t wait to get those sinister five-fingered hands on me. Pervert.”

“Hah!” The familiar accusation made her fix her eyes on him. “Did Dmitri tell you to say that?”

“No, and I will never trust the words of that guy ever again.”

She chuckled, and he joined in.

“I know. I can’t believed I asked mom to tell him I missed him. Won’t happen again.”

Chellick twitched his mandibles, and he looked like he was nervous again.

“I want to ask you something, Shepard.”

“Go ahead,” she said with closed eyes.

“I really liked it when you said my first name. Can you do that again? Only when we’re alone, I mean.”

Shepard opened her eyes and smiled at him.

“I can do that, Decian. And since I’ve ‘ _seduced_ ’ you already, you can say Jane when we’re alone.”

“Jane,” he said almost in awe. “I like it.”

“Don’t think kissing the coach will make me go easy on you on the field.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“And if you brag about this to your friends I’ll have your spurs for hair pins.”

“Agreed.”

“You seem very complacent about this, Decian?”

“I’m a good turian, I know how to follow orders.”

“I see captain Corinthus’ point now,” she murmured. “So if you’re the good kind, who’s the bad kind?”

“The likes of Vyrnnus. Doubt you’ll ever kiss him.”

She smiled at him. “Never happen. But I once believed that about this situation too.”

“What? A turian in your bed? Bound to happen.”

“This was not fate, this was an ill conceived belief that humans initiate mating by hitting each other on the head.”

“Well, it worked,” he said and scooted even closer.

Shepard sensed that she was standing on a precipice of a personal reformation. If she pulled away from him, it would most likely end right here, whatever this was. If she accepted his closeness and affections, she would break scores of unspoken taboos, and perhaps her mother’s heart. He laid entirely still and awaited her choice. Her mind raced with different arguments. He was turian, lying in her bed, it was Christmas, they were both fully clothed, not doing anything really inappropriate, he was turian, this was cozy, he was really nice, he was still a damn turian.

If he was not turian, would she say no? Would she even think about it? After a short soul search, she knew the answer was no. And her mother wasn’t here. And Chellick felt like there was warmth coming off him, and it was a little cold in here.. And, and, and.. Fuck it, she thought and rolled into his embrace. He huffed happily into her hair and spooned her, giving her some of his heat.

“You can stay until lights-out, and if anybody asks, we were playing skyllian five,” she mumbled. “Merry Christmas, Decian.”

“Merry Christmas, Jane? Was that right?”

“Perfect.”

 

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **January** **15** **th** **–** **Palaven** **–** **The Vakarian Family Home 16:** **47** **PM**

Vistilla Vakarian rubbed her crest as her husband continued to swear against his primarch. Galenus rarely lost his temper in such a manner, but the latest message from Fedorian’s office sent him into a rage. She opened the message on her own omni-tool and read it again:

 

_From: Council of the Primarch_

_To: Vakarian, Galenus; Vakarian, Vistilla_

_Subject: Congratulations_

 

_We are pleased to inform you that your son Garrus Vakarian has been accepted into the exchange program at Gagarin Station._ _To promote peace and cooperation between the_ _Hierarchy_ _and the Alliance, the_ _primarch has decreed that citizens of high tier will be_ _requested_ _to commit family members of suitable age to this program, as the Alliance is doing the same. We_ _hope for_ _your favorable_ _reply_ _within three days._

 

The signature on the message was the primarch’s secretary, but Vistilla trusted her husband enough to believe his ranting assurances that this was from Fedorian personally. As Executor of the Citadel Galenus was insulated from many of the primarch’s whims and vagaries, but Garrus’ continued boyhood feud with Timeus Fedorian had kept him in the Fedorian clan’s bad graces for some time. His father had hoped to contain the boy’s rebellious spirit on the shooting range, and had succeed to a limited degree. He no longer got into fights, but he opened his mouth a little too often for either of his parents liking. Garrus always saw things in black and white, and no matter how much scolding they did he continued to noisily oppose that which he believed was wrong. His mother loved his kind heart, but feared his headstrong disposition, which was so much like his father.

 

“Galenus, life-mate, please calm down,” she said without any conviction that it would happen.

“Calm down?! Calm down, she says,” he barked, “knowing that we must send our boy to that dreadful place!”

“Must? They only request that we-..”

“It’s as good as an order, Vistilla. How would it look if the Executor of the Citadel refused to support the Hierarchy’s peace efforts? And not to mention, if the Vakarian clan refused, when the horrid Shepard woman has sent her girl there.” Galenus continued to pace the room. “Do you know what the humans call me? The _executioner_ of the Citadel. They will not have forgotten the relay incident, and now I’m to send my son to a human station? Is Fedorian mad? Our investigations are complicated by aggressive patrolling from both sides, and slavers and smugglers take advantage of the situation to slip past us, the diplomats refuse to back down, neither wanting to look weak in front of the other and in the middle of this, my son has become a pawn in the primarch's power play. I've a good mind to rip his gizzard out.”

He was out of breath, and Vistilla decided to jump in.

“Enough, Galenus!” she said sharply. “There are plenty of turians on that station, including captain Corinthus. His son is also attending boot camp there, and he would never allow that unless it was safe.”

Galenus said nothing, merely gripped the back of a chair until it creaked.

“Garrus is ready to aquire his second tier, and it is a great honor to be singled out for this project.”

“And yet it’s conspicuously free of Fedorians,” Galenus growled.

“Stop it. We need to make the best of this. Garrus is very curious about humans, and it will be very exciting for him to go.”

“If they don’t kill him for being his father’s son. And you don’t know all the facts yet.”

“Then tell me those facts.”

“The Shepard girl is still there. Human biotics attend for three years, until they turn 18 and can join the Alliance.”

“I have read the information sheet attached in the message. The regular recruits and the biotics do not train together. They will probably never meet.”

Galenus shook his head. “We said that years ago at the summit. Now the universe conspires against us. I have an itch in my fringe about this. Things will turn bad fast.”

He started to throw glances at the decanter, and Vistilla got up to distract him. She embraced him and held her forehead to his, humming her love for only Galenus to hear.

“Have faith that the spirits will guide our son and us through this. It may turn out better than you think. The younger Shepard has, unbeknownst to herself and Garrus inspired him to defend the weak, or land himself in trouble, if you will call it that. Perhaps it was meant to be if they meet again.”

He embraced her and held her closer.

“You have a good heart, Vistilla, but we must disagree on this. I wish this would never come to pass, as I fear nothing good will come of it.”

“So Garrus will go to Gagarin?”

“He will. He must.” Galenus sighed. “I hope you are right, but my fringe tells me otherwise.”

“Your fringe talks to much. Let me handle it,” she smiled and reached up to groom him.

He leaned into her familiar touch, letting her soothe his restless body.

“All will be well. I’m sure of it, she said. He merely hummed in response.

 

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **January** **2** **1** **st** **– Gagarin Station** **–** **Common** **Barracks 18:24**

“To the best damn recruits on this entire station!” Emerus bellowed.

A cheer went up from the room.

“And to the hard-ass coach that made it all possible!” Celsus chimed in.

Another cheer, and Shepard felt her cheeks redden, but it was oddly satisfying. Her group came first again, and fivex was the last trial before the deciding exam. The turians were exuberant, being well prepared and ready for the field exam was at the forefront of their minds. If they did well, they would get to pick a specialization of their choosing for their military service, if not, one would be picked for them by the attending instructors. If they failed to perform and flunked the exam, they would have to start again, having wasted 6 months to achieve their citizenship tier. Not to mention the stain on the clan name. This was a life defining moment for them, and right now, _her_ turians felt like they could battle a titan. The humans in their group were also happy, mainly because this would look very nice on their record when and if they chose to enlist with the Alliance later on. She looked over the mottled ensemble of turians and humans and wondered when they had transformed into her people.

They weren’t Dmitri, and Chellick was whatever the hell he was, but somehow she felt like she owned them. At least for one more month. After February, they would no longer need her as a trainer, they’d go on to specialize for their military service. Shepard’s mood was a little brooding. She’d thrown herself into her role as trainer to keep busy, and now it was nearing it’s end. When the exam was over, she’d have very little to look forward to during Vyrnnus’ classes. The old turian’s behavior had changed after Christmas. The commander was as condescending and vile as ever, but he made no attempt to get her thrown off the station, as she first believed he would. In fact, he was now looking at the students with something that resembled avarice, and she saw no reason behind his change. It was upsetting.

 

Beside her Chellick appeared with a small juice box which he handed to her, and he received her grateful smile with fluttering mandibles. It was a seemingly harmless gesture, as he was carrying several levo-boxes in his arms when he came into the barracks and passed them out to the other human students, but he saved her for last, allowing him to sit down beside her to open his own.

“Sneaky turian,” she whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

“Nice turian,” he whispered back as he sunk into the couch, making himself comfortable.

Emerus was done publicly crowing over winning, and headed straight for them. Shepard rolled her eyes when he arrived, as she had a good idea of what he wanted to say.

“So, what do you think of your favorite turian today?” Emerus grinned.

“Arista seems in fine form, thank you for asking.” she said casually.

“Aaaaww,” the two boys chorused. Chellick flared his mandibles, but Emerus was like a varren with a bone, not letting go. “I’m talking about this mornings warm-up,” Emerus protested. “The great Shepard got downed by a superior opponent.”

“He got you there, Shepard,” Chellick said.

The two of them awaited a scorching reply, but she was feeling oddly mellow right now.

“All righ, Victus. This morning you had the best moves.” She took a sip from the juice box.

The two turians glanced disbelievingly at each other.

“Are you feeling all right?” Chellick asked.

“I didn’t drop you too hard on your head, did I,” Emerus followed up.

“Don’t push it, guys. I’m feeling generous today. And you did remarkably well this morning. No opening on your left, and a swift counterattack to my jabs. I didn’t expect it, and so I deserved the loss. Well done.”

Emerus swelled with pride at her words. “Arista will regret calling me a fledgling, I’m going to challenge her tomorrow.”

“Why not now, she’s right over there,” Chellick pointed to the female turian standing in a small crowd.

“Why not indeed,” Emerus said and marched over. Several of the other students sensed a spectacle, and followed suit, leaving Shepard and Chellick alone in the couch.

“There’ll be blood on the floor if he pisses her off,” Shepard frowned.

“Nah, she likes him. You probably can’t smell the pheromones coming off those two, but they’ve been playing this game a while now.”

“You can smell pheromones?” she said eyeing him carefully.

“When the attraction becomes, ah, notable, yes. Speaking of which...”

“Careful now,” she warned.

He lowered his voice; “Second year is very far away.”

She quelled a smile. “And?”

“I wouldn’t mind a little more practice in human customs.” His voice became a purr.

“And respecting my duty, no problem waiting, so on and so forth?”

“Ahem, yes, I meant that, I just didn’t know it would be this difficult. So I’ve come up with a solution.”

Against her will, Shepard chuckled. “Let me hear it then.”

“If I do so well in my field exam that you simply cannot resit giving me another ‘token’, then I think I will manage until next year.”

“That’s-..”

“And,” he cut in, “you’ll not be our coach after the exam.” He looked at her as if this was good news, but she felt her heart drop. “No, I guess I’m not.”

“Hey, I only meant that impediment is gone, not that we want to be rid of you. Far from it.”

Shepard gave his thigh a quick and discreet rub. “I know. I’m just going to miss this.”

“Me or the team?” he asked only half jokingly.

“The team. I suspect you won’t run away yet.”

“No, I won’t. Shepard, I-..”

 

Suddenly there was a loud noise from something slamming into the side of the barracks, and they all jolted up and ran outside. An indentation on the wall was visible, and a dumbbell laid on the ground under it. The wall was sprayed with the numbers 314, but the malefactors was gone.

“Humans,” Arista growled.

“Who else,” Celsus said glumly.

The human members of the group who’d been inside now looked uncomfortable, and the turian’s moved a little ways away from them.

“That didn’t take long,” Chellick said in her ear.

“All right, show’s over,” Shepard said over the murmuring crowd. “I’ll report this to the captain, go back inside. Chellick, will you come with me?”

“No problem.” He picked up the dumbbell and they set out for the officer’s alley.

“Does this happen often?” she said quietly.

“Not that often, but it happens.”

“I must’ve been blind then,” Shepard said with a disapproving frown.

“You don’t see a lot of it because you’re in an all human biotics class, and no one wants to get on your bad side in hand to hand training. We all remember your first lesson.” He shuddered. “It’s still painful to think about.”

“Good. If I ever catch the idiots that did this, I’ll do worse by them.”

Chellick cast her a sideways glance and flared his mandibles. “I absolutely cannot wait until next year. I’m going to win me that kiss next month.”

She shook her head. “You have a one-track mind, young turian.”

“I’m a sexually repressed young turian.”

“Whoa whoa, when did you get so direct,” she said, watching him with surprise.

He grabbed her hand and stopped their trek, leaning down; “When I smelled you the day you sat on my lap, Jane.”

Stepping back just as quickly, Chellick continued walking like nothing happened.

Shepard groaned. That damned sense of smell. There was no point in protesting, and she picked up her pace to catch up with him.

Inside the captain’s office Shepard explained the evenings occurrences while Corinthus seemed to contemplate the presence of the dumbbell placed on his desk. When she finished speaking, Corinthus turned to Chellick.

“Do you also believe it was humans?”

For some reason Chellick all of a sudden appeared nervous. As he jabbered his way through his answer, Corinthus fixed on him with wide eyes, then peeked over at Shepard. When he stopped talking, Corinthus sat down at his desk.

“Shepard, thank you for coming to me with this. Dismissed.”

They started to leave, but the captain called out once more, “Not you, Chellick. Remain.”

Shepard looked puzzled as she closed the door behind her.

“Sit down, recruit,” Corinthus said and the younger turian shuffled his feet to the chair.

“I think you know what I need to ask you,” he said carefully.

“I do, sir.” Chellick looked down.

“You have an interest in Shepard, and judging from your haywire subvocals, it’s quite deep.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You also smell of pheromones. Lucky for you, so does every other turian in this station.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Does she know?”

“Yes, sir.”

Corinthus sighed. “How?”

“I, uh, hit her over the head with a mating stick.” Chellick said while his neck flushed blue.

When he saw the captain’s mandibles hang limp from his jaws, he hurriedly explained the joke Dmitri pulled on them, leaving out the aftermath of that Christmas eve. When he was done, Corinthus was stunned.

“And you’re still alive after hitting her over the head with that thing? Are we sure that’s Shepard and not some clone?”

Chellick chuffed. “I doubt it. She slammed me against the wall and yelled in my face.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Corinthus mumbled. “I understand that for a young turian the prospect of a dangerous, able female of another species is alluring, but have you considered the implications of your choice of possible mate?”

Chellick remained silent.

“This latest incident should tell you something of the controversial nature of relations between humans and turians. If this became known..” Corinthus closed his eyes in horror.

“We’ve done nothing wrong,” Chellick protested. “She told me you don’t approve of trainers getting involved with first-years, that’s why-..”

“Has Shepard encouraged your infatuation?” Corinthus cut him off.

“I… not really, I’ve been doing the encouraging, sir,” he answered, not wanting to tell the whole truth and get her in trouble, but not lying outright and defy his turian upbringing. Corinthus appeared to understand the predicament and did not pursue that line of questioning.

“Have you considered the ramifications for your and Shepard’s future careers?”

“Is not the fulfillment of one’s duty more important than who’s mate one is?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t realize the danger of dating a human, even here on this station. Tonight was just for a group mainly consisting of turian group winning fivex, imagine if you two were found out.”

Chellick met his gaze.

“Do you forbid it, sir?” he said defiantly.

Corinthus rubbed his crest with one hand, mulling it over.

“I should. I really should,” he said, sinking back into his chair. “But I believe in a better future for our people, and the humans. Perhaps it starts here. However, I will insist that you defer this relationship until you’re done with first year. I plan on keeping Shepard on as part time trainer till the end of the semester.”

Chellick’s fringe perked up. “Yes, sir.”

“And you will be discreet. That is paramount.”

“Yes, sir.”

Corinthus went silent and started drumming his talons on the desk. He felt decidedly uncomfortable, but he had to ask; “Do you, erm.. know about.. human anatomy?”

“Sir?”

“Don’t look so dense, recruit. Human female anatomy. I happen to know that ‘ _someone_ ’ subscribes to Fornax, but that might not be… sufficient.”

To Chellick’s unadulterated glee, Corinthus’ subvocals rung with embarrassment. “What do you mean, sir?” he said and struggled to keep his own subvocals under control.

“Humans are, erm, soft and squishy, not plated like our females. There might be some, uh, chafing…oh spirits..”

His voice faded out, and Chellick could almost swear seeing the captain’s neck flush blue like his own had earlier.

When Corinthus found his voice again, he appeared to be defeated. “Just… check the extranet on the summer break. Now please leave,” he grumbled.

Chellick jumped to attention and saluted, “Yessir!” before leaving with a huge grin on his face.

Inside, Corinthus wondered what Hannah Shepard would do to him if she ever found out what he had just said in this room.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This became a lot longer than I thought, but I had fun writing it. Not making any promises, but I'm hoping everyone's favorite turian will make it to Gagarin Station next chapter, as I'm itching to introduce him to the story full time. If he doesn't I think I just might have to have a little look-see on Palaven again so we don't forget about the little fellow. Until next week! :)
> 
> P.S. If anyone spots letters standing to far apart, let me know. I'm waging a war against AO3's formatting and copy-paste from my writing program. I would never knowingly write S hepard. :)


	12. Dereliction and duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard is starting to get in over her head with Chellick, and on Palaven Garrus tries to dispense a little justice in an unjust world.

**217** **4** **CE –** **February** **2** **5** **th** **– Gagarin Station** **–** **Biotic training Class** **08:49 AM**

“Concentrate, humans,” Vyrnnus shouted among the strained grunts and groans from his students.

“A small child should be able to do this.”

He’d lined them up two and two, making the pairs alternate between attacking and defending. Shepard’s opponent was a girl called Anne, whom was currently trying to break her barrier. So far she’d been unsuccessful. This was still one of Shepard’s best moves, but she hoped Vyrnnus would not reach their position when they switched, as her offense was a little shoddy. Too much physical training with the regular recruits and not enough practice on biotics after getting the implant. Since Dmitri left she’d let her bio-training slip. If only someone else in the group could screw up, she’d have time to train offensive biotics before the next lesson. Sadly, there was no such luck. Vyrnnus marched up beside them, stopped and leaned against the rail.

“Switch!”

In front of her Anne’s body glowed with a purple mist, and she became enveloped by a shimmering barrier.

“Let’s see it then, Shepard. Amaze us with what you can’t do,” Vyrnnus derided.

Cursing under her breath, Shepard tried her best to break the other girl’s barrier. She focused on Anne, and threw a shockwave at her, with little or no effect. Shepard tried again, conjuring a warp that stuck in the barrier and started siphoning power from the protective aura. This gave her a small breather until she could muster up enough remaining power to focus on sending a biotic charge straight into the flickering light. The shielding rescinded in a burst of blue and purple vapors. Heaving for breath, she turned to Vyrnnus.

“I was right,” he said, “I am amazed at your ineptitude.”

Shepard gritted her teeth, but didn’t rise to the taunt. This was typical of the commander.

“Three moves to bring down one barrier, oh dear. That’s three rounds in the obstacle course for all of you.”

Around them the other students groaned and gave Shepard the evil eye, and she knew they were justified in their anger. That had been pathetic.

“And as a special reward for you, Shepard, you will be at this field all evening, drilling those attacks until it resembles something I’d teach in my classes. If I’m dissatisfied, the whole class will run more laps for your failings.”

She clenched her fists so hard her nails dug into her palms, but again resisted the temptation to fire back at him. The rest of the class was tense and observing, and she gave the only response she could; “Yes, commander Vyrnnus.”

Vyrnnus looked triumphant. “That’s better. We’ll beat the rebellion out of you yet. To the obstacle course! Double-time!”

The entire class started to run, but a some of her fellow students managed to give her a few shoves to denote their displeasure.

 

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **February** **2** **5** **th** **– Gagarin Station** **–** **Biotic training** **Field 19:55 PM**

As Shepard sprinted down the field, she was glad she’d only had a light meal. The large biotic training field had been refurbished for the evening, and most of the contraptions was of Vyrnnus’ own invention.

These devious devices was a part of the exercise, and would, if not performed correctly, backfire on the student causing at least moderate harm. The sleeve of her track suit was already torn off from using a lift when she probably should have used a throw, and she’d only been at this for 25 minutes. Over the speakers she could hear Vyrnnus; “Not good enough, Shepard. Again!” There was a crunching sound before he released the speaker button, and she figured the bastard was probably having himself a snack while ordering her around. Damned turian. Wasting little time, she jogged back to the starting point to repeat the drill.

The next run was better, but Vyrnnus was far from satisfied. She got the last attack wrong, and it backfired in a spectacular fashion; the target sprang apart and burst into flames. Only a quick barrier saved her from having her right arm severely burned, but she still had to furiously pat her arm to put out the small flames. The sardonic laugh of her tutor once more rang across the speakers; “Slow learner, are we. Not to worry. We have all night.” She also heard more crunching sounds. In addition to the new burn and cuts she already had suffered, Shepard was getting exhausted, but knew better than to complain. Running and swerving the last few laps, she got the rest of the targets right, but the commander was unyielding.

“One more, Shepard. I won’t lower my standards, even for Corinthus’ little pet. Hop to it.”

She bit back the need to gripe or to run upstairs and set his head on fire, and lurched back to the start. A light meal and heavy use of biotics was not as good an idea as she first believed, and the lightheadedness she was experiencing was punishment for that mistake.

“Chop chop, Shepard!” Vyrnnus’ voice crackled over the field. She was beginning to really hate the sound of that voice, in addition to the man himself. Sadly, there was little she could do right now. If she disobeyed, the whole class would pay, and they would blame her. This day she’d been given a loosing hand, and she had to play It out.

“Ready? Run!”

Her hands glowed, and she darted off down the track again.

 

37 minutes later Shepard had run through Vyrnnus little house of fun again, and this time she managed to get past all his contraptions with the right attack. True to form, Vyrnnus had no praise to offer. He strolled onto the field to deliver a last salvo. “Too slow, too weak, too human. I wonder why I bother at all,” he said, wiggling his mandibles. “But there was some improvement, no matter how small.” The commander made a point of walking around her, inspecting her trembling limbs, burns and cuts. “War is harsh, Shepard. If you want to be a warrior, you need to embrace this pain, this feeling of hopelessness. And if you’re better than most of the trash on this station, prevail in face of it.” Shepard raised her head and met his cold eyes in a wordless challenge. For some reason he seemed delighted. “That’s it, Shepard. Be cruel, be hard, and you may yet survive me.”

At this, she could no longer keep her mouth shut. “I will never become what you are!”

He gave a joyless chuckle. “We’ll see, human. We’ll see. Now get to the medical wing and get yourself patched up.”

When he walked off, the floodlights lining the field started to shut off one by one. Her body screamed in pain and her legs felt numb, so she did as she was told. The walk to the medical wing felt longer than usual, as Shepard had to force one leg to step in front of the other, but she got over there by sheer force of will. Her only encouragement was that the hospital could hopefully provide her with information she was anxious to hear.

 

* * *

Liscus, the brown-plated turian receptionist was seriously considering handing in his resignation at Conatix, or at least demand more security at the hospital entrance. No one had told him that handling teenagers would be this dreadful, and now he was stuck with a bruised and battered human student whom refused to see the nurse unless he told her if captain Corinthus and his field teams were on route back to Jump Zero. She’d been arguing with him for 20 minutes and were at this point threatening him with her biotic powers, while simultaneously pretty much hanging off his counter. He listened to her complaints for another five minutes before he decided Conatix did not pay him enough credits for this crap and called for doctor Publius. As the senior doctor at the station, he would be the only one with clearance for that information, and frankly, Liscus figured he deserved to be stuck with the mad biotic, the way that man kept hogging all the females at the station bar.

* * *

 

“Recruit Shepard. We meet again, although you were more quiet and accommodating the last time you visited,” Publius said as he walked into the reception.

“I was comatose, not really grounds for comparison, doctor,” she said, clinging to the counter.

“Well, what can I do for you this evening?”

“You can tell me if the field exam is over and whether or not they are on their way back.”

“Or I could explain at length that information regarding off station expeditions are not subject to student scrutiny,” he replied smiling.

“Yes, but then both of us would be stuck here for a considerable length of time, for some of which I might cry,” she said and made a point of wiping away a few nonexistent crocodile tears.

Publius laughed. “You don’t strike me as the tearful type, Shepard.”

“I like to branch out.” When she put her arm back on the counter, Publius gaze fell on her blistering arm.

“Is that new?”

“It’s commander Vyrnnus idea of a good time. We’ve had such a fun afternoon. He’s a lovely man.”

“Spare me the sarcasm, recruit. Now please follow me.”

She stayed put and instead tried to sneak a peek at Liscus’ datapad. When he became aware of this, he snatched it away and gave Publius a pleading look.”

“Come with me, Shepard,” Publius repeated, “I’ll see what I can do.” There was a subtle thrum in his voice that she’d heard from Chellick when he was communicating something without saying it, and decided to follow him.

Inside his office, he directed her to the examination bench, and she sat down.

“Remove the shirt,” he said while he searched in a cabinet for medigel.

The blistering on her right arm made the shirt removal more intricate than it needed to be, as the blisters felt like they were bursting whenever the cloth touched her skin. Publius observed with an amused expression as the human tried to wriggle her way out of the tattered shirt, but only managed to tangle herself worse.

“Need some help, recruit?” he said after watching for a while.

“If you wouldn’t mind..” came her tired reply.

Picking up a scalpel he carefully sliced the sleeve off the shirt. The shirt fell down, and he saw that her upper body was covered in deep blue and black bruises, and the skin had nicks and cuts where she’d been hit or scraped by something.

“Worse than I expected,” he said thoughtfully.

“This? He had a good day today,” she responded. “When are they coming back?”

“Can I first ask why it’s so important to you?” asked Publius.

“I.. I’m an assistant trainer for the captain. When my group is here, I’m obligated to train them on my afternoons,” she said, hoping he would make up the rest of the story for her. He did.

“And you’re not available to be a punching bag for Vyrnnus.. I see..”

Publius handed her several packets of medigel and instructed her on how often to apply it, and some ointment for the burn. When he finished that, he paced the room for a few minutes, weighing internal arguments before he made a decision.

“The field exam is going well. Only four squads are not done fighting each other, but Corinthus thinks they will finish during this night cycle. They will then board the ships and return. If things go according to this plan, they will be back in four days.” He turned to her. “Sometimes I talk out loud when no one’s around. Terrible habit, especially if I say things that are restricted.”

She gave him a grin. “Didn’t hear a thing, sir.”

“Good. Now get to the mess hall and get something to eat. Your exhaustion is partly caused by lack of nourishment before extended use of biotics. If the cook says it’s late, tell him I sent you. Your stomach sounds like it wants to murder me.”

As if on cue, a small growl came from her abdomen. He chuckled and gave her a large hospital shirt.

“This will suffice for now.”

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate this.”

“Then perhaps next time you will not try to drive our receptionist up the walls? He seems more fragile of late.”

“Can do, sir.” She saluted him and left the room.

 

* * *

 

The mess hall was mostly dark when she entered, only a small emergency exit light in the back illuminated the silhouettes of the furniture. She maneuvered past them in the gloom and slipped into the kitchen pantry. In the levo section she saw egg powder, dried meat, different kinds of nutrient paste, cans labeled only with numbers, and cartons of various kinds of field rations. She shrugged, and grabbed a few different cartons and a couple bottles of nutri-juice. No point in making this more complicated than it needed to be, she reflected, and the rest of the loot she could hide in her room for next time she pissed off the commander.

Upon leaving, she heard heavy breathing and squeaking noises coming from the far side of the mess hall. She swiftly ducked under the counter, and snuck towards the emergency exit in a low crouch. The noises became giggles and grunts, and she recognized the voice of the cook.

“Who has the biggest cock on the station?” he panted.

Shepard cringed. Gods, she was not hearing this, she was _not_ hearing this.

“You do, chef, you ram me like a bull, aaauugah, I love it!” That was the voice of one of the female security staff-members in the officer’s alley.

“That’s right, I’m a stud bull, I’m gonna fill you up real good,” grunted the chef.

Shepard almost threw up in her mouth a little. Time to get out. She no longer felt even remotely hungry, and was determined to never ever sit at that table section ever again. That couldn’t possibly be hygienic. Eating here at all seemed a lot less appealing, and the best thing to do was to get out and wash her ears with bleach. The two lovers seemed completely invested in their own pastime, and she remained unseen as she crawled her way to the emergency exit and made her escape. On her way back to the barracks she tried to delete what she overheard, but it was impossible. She chewed a couple of field rations despite feeling nauseated, and she knew who to blame. Under her breath she swore that someday she’d get back at that cook, even if it took years.

 

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **March 01** **st** **–** **Gagarin Station** **–** **Docking Area 17:32 PM**

The loudspeakers announced that Conatix’s crew carrier docked five minutes ago, and Shepard stood at a vantage point, eagerly awaiting the passengers. After Publius little reveal, she had made an effort to behave in class to avoid more special time with Vyrnnus, but yesterday she’d tripped up and he made her evade and block his biotic attacks all evening. Her success had been limited, and she had to go back to the medical wing for more medigel. Publius handed them over without comments, just a consoling pat on her shoulder. None of that was important today, as Deci-... Shepard gave herself a mental slap, ..as the group would return. The first batch of students piled through the gateway, looking ruffled and dirty. Some were chattering and laughing while others appeared downcast, practically dragging their feet out of the shuttle, but still no sight of her people. There was no way she was going to budge from her lookout, but that forced her to sidestep and swerve the oncoming students. Somewhere over the commotion of the entrance hall she heard Emerus Victus’ boisterous laugh and she turned her head in that direction. When she spotted them, she had to grin. Emerus, Arista and Chellick swaggered like they owned the room, flaring their mandibles and laughing, and Shepard could not feel prouder. There was no way their exam had been anything other than a success. Emerus spotted her first, and gave Chellick a not so discreet nudge. The turian swiveled his head to catch sight of her, and his green eyes glinted triumphantly. Another reason to believe the exam went great, she reflected, he looked like he had a prize to claim. They set a course straight for her, and she went to meet them half way.

“Hey, Shepard,” Emerus said. He was brimming with pride, fringe flared and a small gash on his crest.

“Good to see you, Victus. How’d you get that? Don’t know when to duck?” She pointed at the gash.

“Turians don’t duck,” Arista said in a sarcastic, but playful manner. “But usually they have enough brain to dodge.”

“Oh, that’s cute,” said Emerus. “You left out the part that I saved your plates by taking that hit.”

“Yeah yeah, I already said thank you, stop bragging. It’s unbecoming.”

“Just making sure it’s not forgotten.”

“Speaking of not forgetting,” Chellick interjected, “I remember a certain deal.”

Shepard smiled. “Yeah yeah, I already said okay, stop nagging. It’s unbecoming.”

The boys looked offended while Arista and Shepard laughed.

“So that’s how it is, huh,” complained Emerus. “I save the day, and all I get is insults?”

“Come now,” Arista said, “I’m sure I can think of something to placate you.”

There was no reply from him except for a soft thrum.

“Ah, for spirits sake, stop that,” groaned Chellick, “I don’t need to hear that.”

Around them several turian students started chortling, making Shepard do the same.

“Save the dirty talk for later, guys, they’re looking at you like you’re a public nuisance.”

“All right, but just because you asked nicely,” Emerus said. “Let’s go to the mess hall, I’m starving.”

“Ah, yes, about that. Might want to let me choose seats today,” she said, making a disgusted face, “dirty talk all around.”

“Ooh, I want to hear this.”

“Trust me Victus, you don’t.”

“Come on, Shepard, we’ve been gone for days, give us the recent gossip,” Arista chimed in.

“Remember, you asked for it,” Shepard said as they headed for evening meal.

 

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **March 01** **st** **–** **Gagarin Station** **–** **Shepard’s Room 18:46**

There should be a little more guilty conscience on her part about kissing a turian, Shepard mused as she gently stroked Chellick’s mandibles. He returned her movements with his talons, carefully brushing them down her cheeks and down her neck. Outside they could hear chattering students, and she was glad she was still had a room of her own. Next year would be more problematic, but they both had promised the captain. Chellick’s breathing was a little deep, and he eagerly leaned in to press his mouth plates to her lips. She’d missed him too much, she realized. Cupping his face, she met him halfway and slipped her tongue out to meet his. After a few seconds he was emitting a sound that was like a purr, and the vibrating from his chest felt very pleasant.

“Now who’s the seducer,” she said after they broke for air.

“That would be me,” he replied with a smug flare of the mandibles. “And you’re not exactly running screaming away from me.”

That made her laugh. “Bad leg. Vyrnnus been giving me some extra homework while you were gone.”

The smile left his face. “What did he do?”

“It’s nothing, don’t ruin the moment.”

“What did he do, Jane?”

She sighed. “Just some extra work to catch me up on my own classes. No big deal.”

He looked doubtful. “If you say so.” He put his arms around her, pulling her closer. By another stroke of her usual luck, he touched the part of her back where she’d hit the ground as Vyrnnus’ biotic lift gave out. Shepard hissed in pain and pulled away.

It was his turn to sigh. “Why haven’t you put medigel on that?”

“Because my arm is too stiff, I can’t reach behind my back.”

“You’re going to tell me about Vyrnnus later, but first, take off your shirt.”

“Say what?”

“Take your clothes off, injured one, or I’ll rip them from your body,” he said, growling playfully while nudging her down to the bed. “I saw you had some medigel in your satchel over there. Now just sit still, silly human, or you’ll get gel on both of us.”

“I can’t believe you’ve actually memorized those words,” she said as she shimmied out of her shirt. “So, what do you think?” She stood before him in her sports-bra, arms outstretched.

“You seem to have good functionality in your arm, it must be just the twisting backward movement that’s impaired,” he said after a quick peek and continued to rummage in her bag.

Shepard regarded him with bewilderment. “That’s not what… Never mind. I forgot turians don’t look where human guys look.” She slumped down with a glum smile.

“Is this a human thing? Like our waist?” He looked at her again. “You have really nice… chest ornaments?”

At this she threw her body back on the bed and laughed out loud. “Well, that’s better than nothing.”

He looked apologetic as he sat down on the bed with two packets of gel. “I’ll figure out what’s what later, right now I’m more concerned about your back. Turn over.”

“Listen to you, taking charge and giving orders,” she said but flipped over on her stomach obediently.

“Mmh, if you like it, I’ll do it some more.”

The medigel felt cooling on her back, and he squeezed the whole packet along her lower spine before throwing the empty packet in the bin.

“Open the clasp on my back, Decian. Then you can reach my whole back.”

He hesitated, then fumbled with the small buckle, seemingly afraid to nick her with his talons. She heard a small exhale of relief when the bra sprang apart. When he placed his hands on her back to rub and stroke along her entire back, she arched to give him more access. His palms felt like soft suede, and the careful brushes of his talons gave a tickling sensation.

“Feels nice?”

“It feels very nice. You’re very nice, Decian.”

He chuffed, and she sensed he was happy with her answer. Next semester might be months away, but if she could have a little bit of this every time Vyrnnus got upset with her, then perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

 

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **March** **25** **th** **–** **Palaven – Field of** **Unification Shooting Range 16:16 PM**

While the targets in their lane re-positioned itself to maximum distance there was a whirring sound that gradually diminished as they traveled down the rails. The small flag that denoted wind direction hung idly from the pole. The shooter lined up his last shots while keeping his breathing steady. These field conditions were optimum, and a miss would not be accepted by the towering figure standing behind him. He saw the figure’s shadow pull up a pair of binoculars.

“Five still targets, one moving. When ready.”

Fourteen seconds passed as the silenced muzzle flashed five times, each followed by a small ping from the built in target-screen in the wall. The figure ignored the screen, but flicked his gaze between the prone shooter and the binoculars. With every hit he did a small twitch with one mandible. As the moving target rolled out from it’s position, the shooter readjusted his position on the ground. His last shot rang out. The screen gave another ping, but no mandible movement followed from his watcher. There was a tense silence as the shooter awaited judgement.

“If that was a living animal, there would be an angry limping nathak out there. Not good enough, Garrus.”

Garrus clamped his mandibles to his face. “Yes, dad.”

“Not even in the kill zone, barely a graze. You did this last month with no difficulty.”

“Yes, dad.”

“Don’t _‘yes dad’_ me, Garrus. Eject the heat sink and put the safety on. We have used up our time.”

“Sure, dad.”

Galenus prayed to the spirits that he would have enough restraint to not throw his monosyllable son out of the skycar on the way home. He led Garrus out of the range and back to the armory. The sergeant in the gun cage took the rifle when Garrus placed in on the counter.

“Executor Vakarian, young Vakarian,” he nodded. “How did you like the Hammer?”

Garrus seemed to lighten up a bit. “It’s pretty good, but Elanus is not quite as good as Armax. When do you get the new Armax rifles in?”

“Oh, they should be here in August, barring any incidents,” the sergeant replied.

“We’re coming back then, right dad?”

Galenus coughed, and avoided the question. “How much for the session?”

While he transferred the money, Garrus drifted over to the large holo screen showing a gaudy exhibit from several weapons manufacturers. He flipped through Haliat, Serrice, Elkoss and Armax before finding a new name on the roster; Rosenkov Materials. It was from earth.

“Dad, look at this. It’s a human company. Since when do humans sell weapons to turians?”

His father came up beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “About the same time turians started selling space ships to humans, I expect.” In his mind Garrus was a little to fascinated with everything earth. “We’re not sharing everything with them, just as they’re not sharing everything with us. But trade needs to start somewhere, and weapons seems be a common denominator for our species.”

“You don’t sound too happy about that,” said Garrus.

“I’m not. There is peace now, yes, but is it permanent? If not, then the humans will know substantially more about us through our weapons, and use it against us.”

“Isn’t it the same for us? We will know more about them, and so that will deter both sides from attacking?”

Galenus smiled. “That particular strategy has big flaws, son. Let’s go, I have something to discuss with you.”

 

* * *

The skycar flew by the beautiful jagged rocks native to the plains of Palaven, but Garrus did not care about the landscape. Not even the sight of running kheelies could rise his interest, and they usually made his mouth water. His father had just told him he was to be sent off world for the major parts of two years, and Garrus was speechless. He knew his parents had argued many times these past months, but they had refused to divulge what the fights was about. Being sent to a human station to acquire his second tier was the last thing he imagined. The honor of the family demanded it, and he would never be able to refuse, but the fact that it was foisted upon him stuck in his gizzard. The Vakarian name alone could single him out as a target at the station, and it was placed in human territory under human control, despite being filled with a large contingency of turian soldiers. There would be no way to be certain that his life would not be in danger, as his father just informed him. Garrus was unsure how he felt about that. On one side it was frightening to be in mortal danger so long away from home, but the rebel in him relished the thought of a real adventure away from the restrictions of Palaven and his family. He’d miss his mother and Solana, sure, but if he went to military boot camp on Palaven, he’d still be away from them for long periods of time, like his father was when on the Citadel.

The trip back home went by like lightening. Upon returning to their house his mother stood in the doorway, greeting them back.

“There you are. How did it go?” Vistilla asked.

Garrus knew she didn’t ask about the target practice. “Unexpected results,” he said.

“I can imagine,” Vistilla laughed and brushed his fringe.

“Mom!” he protested.

“Forgive me, Garrus, but no matter how old you get, you’re still my little boy.”

He grumbled something and slipped past her. Behind him he heard his parents subvocals hum as they greeted each other.

In the living room Solana sat reading a datapad. She gave an excited squeak when she saw her big brother enter. He sat down beside her.

“Not done with homework yet, sis? Not that smart after all, are you?” he teased.

“Hah, I was done hours ago.” She whispered conspiratorially; “I’m playing Galaxy of Fantasy. Don’t tell mom.”

Garrus chuckled. “I won’t.” He inclined his head to see how the game was going, and they sat watching the game until footsteps was heard drawing closer. Solana pressed pause and took up a math problem instead.

Vistilla came in and sat in the chair on the other side of the table, while Galenus went into the kitchen. She gave both her children loving looks, before addressing her daughter. “Solana dear, could you play that awful game in your room? I need to talk to your brother.”

Solana gaped at her mother, then gave Garrus an accusing glare. He was quick to shake his head. She pointed at his crest in a manner that said ‘I don’t trust you,’ and marched out.

 

“So, Garrus, what do you think about Jump Zero?” his mother asked.

“It’s.. it’s not what I expected.”

“It’s not what your father and I wanted for you either, but the Hierarchy made the request. We could refuse, if you really hated the idea.”

“What about the shame on our clan?” he asked.

“It would be severe, yes, but my family is more important. _You_ are more important.” Vistilla looked at him with an expression of infinite tenderness. Garrus found it hard to meet her eyes when faced with so much motherly affection.

“That is hardly the answer expected of a turian,” he said carefully.

“Perhaps not. Or perhaps one day, you will have someone you’re willing to break all the rules for.”

Garrus grinned. “Dad would molt on the spot.”

“It’s good to slough off stagnated ideas,” Vistilla smiled back. “But I never said such a thing.” She fluttered her mandibles. Garrus supressed his smile as Galenus walked in. His father was a stickler for the rules, but his mother was more unconventional.

“So, Garrus, what do you think?” he asked.

“I will go.” Garrus answered calmly.

Galenus looked both pleased and worried. “I thought as much. I will do my best to protect you while you’re there. Captain Corinthus and I are old acquaintances, I’ll ask him to be on guard.”

“Dad, I’m supposed to do this on my own,” he objected. “You can’t interfere!”

“And I won’t. The hardship of training is yours alone. But if I can prevent that your life is in any more danger than other turians on that stations, I will.”

His father seemed determined, but Garrus first checked his mother for support. Vistilla closed her mandibles, letting him know that his father would not be swayed. So be it, Garrus thought. At least the humans wouldn’t give him any special treatment, like this captain could be prone to do.

 

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **May** **2** **6** **th** **–** **Palaven –** **Palaven Public School number 156, Gym** **Hall** **08:02 AM**

“Pst, Vakarian. Hey, Vakarian!”

Timeus Fedorian did his best to gain Garrus’ attention as they warmed up, but was being soundly ignored. This did not stop him from speaking.

“I hear you’re getting shipped out to train with a bunch of humies. Your dad must be so proud.”

Ever since his father had forbidden him to engage in fistfights with Timeus, Garrus’ strategy had been to turn a blind eye to his classmate’s mocking remarks. It was becoming more and more difficult as he had kept his temper under control for a very long time. Timeus’ antics were wearing thin.

“Perhaps those weaklings will be grateful for your presence. Nobody here seems to care.” Timeus snickered.

They were interrupted by the gym teacher. “Line up for selection. Today is clawball. I want a clean game. No unnecessary tackles, no talon stomping, and no elbows to the nose, Timeus. I’m looking at you.” Timeus merely laughed. The young turian was quite larger than his fellow students due to an early growth spurt. Garrus envied Timeus his increased size. It gave him a distinct advantage, and the sense of entitlement that came with being in the primarch’s clan made him completely unbearable.

“Shoulder to shoulder, teacher. Not my fault these fledglings can’t stay in their feet.”

“I got my eye on you, Fedorian. Behave!”

 

As the game progressed it became clear that it was a fight for dominance between the contestants, not the teams. Timeus and Garrus had ended up on the same side, and they made short work of the opposing team. Timeus knocked players away and gave Garrus and the other teammates the opportunity to score. Normally Garrus would have been thrilled to be winning by this margin, but Timeus was being very unsportsmanlike. Whenever he tackled an opponent to the floor, he made fun of them while they were down. When he had the ball, he allowed the opposing players to catch up with him so he could pass the ball and brawl instead.

So long as he wasn’t drawing blood, the trainer didn’t pull Timeus from the game, since clawball was in it’s essence a very physical sport. On his side, Garrus was getting fed up with Timeus. In the last reversal of the game he decided to improvise. Timeus charged ahead, clearing a path for him, but when they were straight in front of the goal, he pretended to miss and slammed the ball straight in the back of Timeus’ fringe. It hit him with a hard ‘ _thud_!” and his teammate fell on his face with a yelp, sliding along the ground as the room went quiet.

The trainer ran out on the floor. “Timeus, are you all right?”

The younger turian got up and rubbed his fringe. “I’m fine!” He swiveled his head and saw Garrus standing a few meters away with an empty expression on his face.

“You! You did that on purpose!” he snarled.

“It was the heat of the game, Timeus. These things happen.” the trainer said, trying to calm matters down.

Timeus was shaking with barely repressed anger, but could only nod whilst standing in front of a superior. “A mishap. Sure. It happens,” he said with mandibles pressed to his face.

The trainer gave him an encouraging nod. “Good. It’s just a game, after all.”

He blew the whistle, signaling the end of the game and the class. While the students queued up to leave the gym for the showers, Garrus felt a prickling feeling in the back of his neck, and he knew Timeus was glaring at him, trying to burn a hole in his head. Unless Garrus wanted a confrontation, he would need to go straight home after school. There was only a little more than a month remaining of classes, and he’d rather not face the disappointment of his father again, or the wrath of Timeus Fedorian before that time. Hitting him with the ball had been an impulsive act, and not one the larger turian was likely to forget.

 

_**Six hours later** _

 

The weight of his backpack was heavy due to all the extra datapads that were needed for today’s lessons. To top that off, it was turian culture class, the most boring classes in school, always emphasizing duty and honor and sacrifice, but not questioning if the orders coming down from on high was worth following. An order was an order, to not follow was unthinkable, unturian and unpatriotic. Garrus had once asked if a soldier whom received an order he knew to be wrong, would not be more honorable if he refused to obey it. That day he’d been sent home early with a note, and after a talk with his father online from the Citadel, never asked again. He loved the anthem Die for the Cause, but he would prefer it if the cause was just. Mired in his own deliberations, he never saw Timeus emerge from an alley to grab him by the shoulder.

They were only a few blocks away from the school, but Garrus refused to cry out for help. Instead he allowed himself to be dragged into the alleyway, knowing full well he was in for a beating. Timeus pulled Garrus’ backpack off his back and tossed it away, before he shoved the smaller turian down on the paved road.

“It’s time you and I got this out of the way,” he growled. “I won’t get a chance when we leave for boot.”

Garrus got back up unsteadily, and got in a fighting stance. “Real brave, Timeus, sneaking up on people like that.”

“I haven’t laid a talon on you yet, fledgling,” he scoffed. “But I will now.”

“First blood?” Garrus asked as the other turian stepped closer.

Timeus halted, looking incredulous.“Duel rules? You think we’re doing this by rules? Should have thought of that before you threw that ball in my fringe.”

He launched himself at Garrus, pinning the smaller turian against the wall and started pummeling his sides and abdomen with heavy strikes. Tasting blood in his mouth, Garrus tried to hit back but compared to his opponent he had little power behind his blows, and Timeus just laughed at his pathetic attempt at counterattack. Garrus had no escape and resigned himself to try and block the worst of the onslaught. A particular vicious hit made him involuntary jerk forward and smash his crest into Timeus’ nose. The other turian staggered one step backward, and Garrus used the small opportunity to pounce. He jumped and grabbed the larger turian’s cowl, hauling himself up and planting his teeth in Timeus’ neck. Timeus howled in pain and tried to swat Garrus off, but he refused to let go. If Timeus got loose, the vindictive turian would probably maim him for this. Garrus was so focused on keeping his teeth sunk in that he blocked out Timeus sending a low pitched call for help with his subvocals. Garrus felt talons scrape along his own cowl and back plates, cutting deep marks as they slashed through his civvies. The pain made him wince but he hung on like a hungry pyjak. Whenever he saw an opening he slashed back at Timeus arms and chest. The taste of blood in his mouth was pungent, but at least it wasn’t his own anymore.

“Garrus!” By some coincidence the first teacher at the scene was the clawball coach. “Garrus, let go! Let go _now_!” he barked, grabbing both boys by their cowls.

Reluctantly Garrus opened his maw, and Timeus stumbled back.

“He fucking _bit_ me!” he coughed, causing specks of blue blood to spray out of his mouth. “It’s taboo!”

Blood leaked from every teeth mark in Timeus neck. It dawned on Garrus that he might have committed a horrible transgression.

“I had no other option! Timeus is the size of an elcor, there’s no way I can beat him.”

The trainer crossed his arms. “And yet you accepted the challenge?”

“….Yes.” Garrus hung his head.

“And you, Timeus Fedorian. This is not acceptable behavior from a member of the Fedorian clan. What do you think the primarch will say when he hears his kin is skulking in alleys like a robber, beating up weaker opponents on a personal whim?”

There was no reply from Timeus, only a dark stare.

“Both of you are coming with me to see the nurse. I’ll have one of your parents pick you up after you’ve been examined.”

Garrus spat blood on the ground. The taste was sickening, and he felt like throwing up now that the adrenaline from fighting was receding. At least his father was back on the Citadel, but when he imagined his mother’s mild reproach he wished for a fatherly shouting instead.

The older turian beckoned Timeus and Garrus to follow him back to the school, and they followed him reluctantly.

 

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **June 14** **th** **– Gagarin Station – Shepard’s Room 10:00**

“Come on Jane, one more for good luck,” said Chellick, nuzzling her neck. “I won’t be seeing you for two months, I need my fix.”

The shuttle coming to bring her back to Arcturus Station and him to Palaven would arrive in less than an hour, but Shepard didn’t care. She had her hands full of turian, and she hugged him as if she was never going to see him again.

“Since you need it, Decian.” She kissed him passionately. He snuggled up against her and she felt the warm sensation of his vibrating purr down her whole body. The promise to Captain Corinthus remained unbroken, but it was getting harder and harder by the day. She wrapped her hands around his waist and fondled it, knowing the response it would elicit from him. Chellick moaned against her neck.

“That’s not nice, Jane,” he hummed.

“Your subvocals tells me it’s very nice,” she said in his ear, before running her tongue the length of his mandible, making him shiver of lust.

“My mom told me to stay away from alien girls, now I know why.”

“We’re irresistible?”

“You’re evil.”

He began to return the favor, licking along her cheek and down the side of her neck. Now it was her turn to shiver in his arms.

“See? Not so nice when it’s your turn,” came his smug muffled voice.

“I concede your point, licentious alien.”

“You know I can smell you, right?”

Two months ago that remark would have made her blush. Now she only heard the longing in his voice.

“I’m surprised you haven’t stolen one of my shirts, given how much you’re sniffing me.”

“Who says I haven’t?”

They laughed. Chellick wriggled and propped himself up on an elbow, suddenly looking serious.

“Don’t you go running off with some human guy on Arcturus, Jane. I’d be devastated.”

She reached up and brushed her fingertips along his mandible.

“I thought turians was supposed to be more relaxed about sex than humans,” she joked.

“Yes, because all turians are the same, right? Anyway, if a part in a turian coupling wants to have sex with someone outside their relationship, it has to be agreed on by both parties. And I don’t consent to you pawing at some other male.”

“So we’re in a relationship? Not just biding our time until 6 minutes after we’re no longer bound by our promise?”

Chellick sat up on the bed looking perplexed. “Aren’t we?” After three more seconds he added; “What do you mean, 6 minutes?”

Shepard got up beside him and kissed him again as a diversion. This was a thorny subject, and she could have brought it up another time. Despite being covered by a carapace, it felt like he melted in her arms when she put her mouth on him. Good to know. She pulled herself away, giving him a quick rub on his nose.

“I want us to be, but turians don’t always think as humans do.”

“Well, this turian thinks like you,” he said, relief written on his brow.

The nagging doubt she had for harboring tender feelings for the turian came back in force when she saw his face. They would be apart for a long time, and she knew her mother would ask about the turians at Gagarin. If Hannah perceived that her daughter’s allegiance had shifted towards a more turian friendly stance, there would be hell to pay. In addition, if her mother knew how friendly, there was no telling what she might do. She also felt a personal doubt about the steadfastness of her own character. Could her mother’s personal beliefs change how she, Jane, felt when she was away from Chellick? Was she dishonoring her father’s memory by initiating a relationship with this turian? She felt torn between her own growing feelings for Chellick and her family history with his species. Perhaps she would grow to resent them again if she was under her mother’s influence long enough.

“Jane? Where did you go?” It was Chellick’s turn to cup her face and kiss her to break her line of thoughts.

“I just.. my mother doesn’t like turians,”she said honestly.

“Understatement of the year,” he chuckled. “And now you do, so you feel like you’re abandoning the family creed.”

“Something like that.”

“You’re afraid she might find out?” he said, giving her a knowing look.

“That too. More worried I’ll.. return to bad habits.”

Without saying anything more, he still understood the problem.

“If your mother’s bad ideas rubs off on you, that only means I need to seduce you all over again.”

He pulled her into his arms again and kissed her cheek, before flicking his tongue slowly along the bottom of her lip. Tasting me, Shepard remembered he said once, and it gave her a hot thrill that traveled downwards. She returned his kiss eagerly, opening her mouth for him and allowing him to slide his blue tongue between her lips. Shepard shivered again. Now there was a mental image that worked on several levels.

Putting a hand on his keel bone, she pulled him back down in the bed and on top of her. Engaging in a little inventive acrobatics, he managed to maneuver one of her legs to the side so he was placed directly between them.

“Mmmh, I like this,” he purred after kissing her again.

Shepard let her fingers play with the sensitive skin on the side of his neck. The sensation made him squirm and grind his hips against hers. Shepard felt her self control wither away like fog on a sun-filled morning, and by Chellick’s strained breathing he was having the same problem. If they continued, neither would be able to stop.

“Spirits, Jane, if we don’t-..”

“Thump-thump.”

There was a very convenient knock at the door, and Emerus’ flanged voice carried through it; “You two better hurry up, the shuttle docked early, like 10 minutes ago. Unless you want to stay here.” There was an unmistakable chuffing sound, followed by the sound of someone getting punched in the cowl.

“Ouch! What?!”

“Don’t be a jerk, Victus.”

“Come on, Arista, I was just-..”

The voices faded away. Shepard and Chellick shared an embarrassed glance and climbed off each other and out of bed. So their friends knew. Great. The intimate moment had passed and now they had to hurry to make their rides out of Gagarin. Chellick picked up his bag and straightened the bed clothes while Shepard made sure to double-check her paper-copy of Carl von Clausewitz’s ‘ _On war’_ was in the rucksack. It had been a gift from uncle David, and more importantly, tucked away between the pages was dozens of glossy images of naked turians she hadn’t managed to throw away. A little research that would come in handy over the summer. Shepard tossed the bag over her shoulder and gave Cellick a guilty smile.

“Let’s be off, shall we?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This grew a little out of proportions, as I try to limit myself to 4500-6000 words per chapter. This monster is over 7000. I really wanted to get Garrus on the station, but alas, he's still stuck on his homeworld. Too move things along, I wrote a little longer. Next time, I solemnly promise, Shepard and Garrus will meet again since their first chance meeting on the Citadel. We are also moving towards my first NSFW chapter, but I won't promise that for next weekend. Have a good read! :)


	13. Helping and hurting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard is back on the station after summer break, expecting a grand reunion with Chellick and smooth sailing during her last year at Gagarin. Her meeting with one of the station's new recruits is about to change those plans.

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **July 10** **th** **–** **Siberia** **–** **Memorial Service**

For Hannah Shepard, the warm and sunny Siberian summer day didn’t fit her state of mind. Standing here in this place so many years after the loss of her husband, the heavens should weep at the human lives lost in the darkness that hid below the ground. She took several deep breaths and tried to remain composed while tears streaked down her cheeks. In front of the procession, yet another memorial placard was unveiled. Each year they managed to identify a few more remains of the thousands that was still missing after the orbital strike 17 years ago, but it had been years since she’d attended the memorial service. It was simply too painful. This year the event had coincided with both her and commander David Anderson being docked on earth, and they had agreed to be present. The names of Jonathan Shepard and Sarah Hammond had been among those first engraved, despite that Sarah’s body could never be found. David’s face was a stone mask revealing nothing of the turmoil within, but Hannah knew from his bloodshot eyes that he’d been drinking heavily the night before.

Behind them her daughter was unusually quiet. Hannah threw a quick glance at her, and she stood side by side with her Russian friend from Gagarin, the Basanov boy. He’d put his arm around her, letting her lean on his wide shoulders. At the makeshift stage the speaker began his eulogy. Hannah turned her attention to the man. Jane had never learned Russian, but her friend gave a hushed translation as the speech progressed. It was heartwarming to see that she’d made good friends on that thrice damned station. Perhaps more than friends. After she came home for the summer, her daughter had been a little aloof and secretive. Hannah was familiar with those symptoms in a teenager. Jane had been on her omni-tool chatting with someone ever since she got home, and became almost panic-stricken when her mother playfully tried to spy on her. Hannah smiled despite her tears. Love was a wonderful, terrifying thing.

 

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **July 10** **th** **–** **Siberia** **–** **Memorial Service** **Reception**

“Hey uncle David.”

David Anderson chuckled and looked for the only person in the room that would call him that. He saw Jane walk toward him, towing a big adolescent boy after her by hand. He didn’t seem to mind, merely followed her with a good-natured grin.

“Hi. I’d like you to meet my friend, Dmitri Basanov. We met at Gagarin Station.”

Anderson reached out and shook the boy’s hand with a firm grip. He was familiar with the name.

“Nice to meet you. I know your father,” he said.

Dmitri gave a small nod. “Many people in military does after company merger. Nice to meet you too, Mr Anderson. I am sorry for your loss.”

Anderson gave Jane an enquiringly look, and she turned slightly red.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“We all lost something precious here. Pretending we didn’t won’t help,” Anderson said and added;

“How are you holding up, Jane?”

“I’m not sure. It seems strange to miss someone you’ve never met,” she said, hesitant to go on. Anderson and Dmitri waited while she searched for words.

“Mom rarely talks of him, but I’ve seen the holo-vids. He looks a bit like me,” she said sadly.

“He does,” Anderson said with a smile. “Or, you look a bit like him.”

“Poor man,” Dmitri whispered in her ear.

Jane pinched his side. “Shut it you.” A small smile broke on her face.

“I see your mother has a point,” Anderson said to the air. Jane suddenly became very self-conscious.

“Don’t know what you mean.”

“She merely said that your new friend could bring a smile to your face.”

For some reason, Jane appeared to be flustered. Dmitri seemed unfazed and put his arm around her. “Always,” he said.

Protective and friendly, Anderson thought. No wonder Jane wanted him to tag along. He looked at his omni-tool. It was late, and his ride would be there soon.

“Have you seen your mother?”

“She’s talking to the Russian ambassador, I think.”

“I see.” Anderson turned to Dmitri. “Would you let me have a few words with Jane in private?”

“Of course.” Dmitri gave Jane’s hand an encouraging squeeze and left them alone.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No, not at all. I know this is neither the time or the place, but I wanted to say it in person. I should perhaps wait until your mother can join us, but that may be a while, and I must leave shortly.” He guided her to a quiet corner. “Nothing is official yet, but you are being considered for enrollment in the N7 program at Arcturus.”

“What? Really?” Jane said, aghast.

Anderson chuckled. “Don’t sound so shocked. We’ve been monitoring your results from Gagarin, and you come highly recommended by your trainers.”

Jane raised an eyebrow. “All of them?”

“We are aware of that some students find commander Vyrnnus’ approach to teaching a little harsh, but we cannot deny the results. He’s not your biggest fan, but he writes that you have potential, under a lot of waffle about insubordination and defiance.”

“I’m not the easiest student to have in class,” she admitted.

“So I’ve heard,” he said with a chuckle, before turning serious. “What you do this year is important, Jane. Keep up the hard work, stay out of trouble, and I think you have a good chance at being accepted into the program. It’s a great honor, and I know you have aspirations of a career in the Alliance Navy.”

“I will, and I do,” she said, a fire set alight in her eyes.

“Who knows, this might be one of the last occasions you may call me uncle David. Next time it might be commander and sir.”

“A hard sacrifice,” she grinned, smile going from ear to ear, “but I think I could manage.”

“And no scandals, Jane. That’s important,” he said jokingly.

Her smile became somewhat rigid. “Uhm.. What kind of scandals?”

“I’m sure you’ve got nothing to worry about. That Basanov kid seems okay.”

Jane gave a nervous laugh. “Dmitri! Sure, he’s.. great. He’s.. really great.”

“See? That’s not going to cause a rumor mill for the Alliance. Don’t sweat it, you’ll do fine.”

Anderson patted her on the shoulder. There was a buzz from his omni-tool, alerting him to the arrival of his ride.

“Tell your mother I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. The Tokyo is ready for departure.”

“I will. Safe journey, uncle David.” She winked at him, and he winked right back. When Anderson left, he saw the boy Dmitri sidle back to Jane, and she whispered excitedly in his ear. He whispered something back and grabbed her into a bear hug. Anderson felt relaxed. Jane seemed to be doing things the right way. One more year, and she’d be on the fast track to the Navy’s officer’s corps.

 

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **July 10** **th** **–** **Siberia** **–** **Dmitri Basanov’s Hotel Room 19:06**

“This has been an awkward day,” Jane sighed as she sat down by the window.

“It has been good and bad, yes?” Dmitri said, offering her a small bottle of dubious origins.

She gave it a skeptical look.

“It is samogon. Russian moonshine,” he said, uncorking the bottle and taking a small sip. The look on his face was priceless, like a man sucking on a lemon.

“Ugh, not bad.”

She grinned. “Really? Not a good liar, are you?”

“Are you wimp? Or do you have hair on chest?” he teased.

“Neither, I hope.” Jane accepted the bottle and took a swig. The drink burned down her throat and made her cough and fight for air.

“Not bad, for first timer. I want to try Ryncol, but father says no,” he said, sitting down beside her.

Jane regained her voice. “But he says yes to this?”she said in a strained pitch.

“Well, no.. but I work in his company now, a little embezzlement here and there he will not notice.”

“Not funny, delinquent.”

“I will be 17 soon, Jane. I need to rebel.” He took another sip. “How is your mother?”

“In her hotel room since the reception. I haven’t disturbed her. She looked so tired.” Jane held her hand out, and the bottle landed in her palm. The samogon smelled like paint thinner, but she pretended not to notice and took another gulp.

“Is it strange to be here?” Dmitri asked, brushing her shoulder gently. “I know it must be different from how your mother feels.”

Jane was quiet for a while. “I feel selfish,” she finally said. “I know my mother is heartbroken, and I’m also sad, but I feel happy that you’re here, and David was here, and now the N7-program. And Chellick...” Her voice trailed off. She waited for him to crack a joke about the turian, but she saw only sympathy in his eyes. It encouraged her to go on. “It’s like I’m being disrespectful, without meaning to be.”

“You are not disrespectful, but like you said, you are not your mother. You must make own choice. Even when really stupid.” Dmitri flashed her a lopsided smile, and she joined in.

“Thank you for coming here, and for going along with their… assumptions.”

“No problem. If Jane Shepard wants to pretend she is my girlfriend, she can.” Dmitri grinned. “Even if she is riding the xeno bandwagon.”

“Aaaww, that’s crude,” she said and gave him the finger. “Here I thought you’d become sensitive and understanding.”

Dmitri nabbed her upturned middle-finger and curled his hand into hers. “I am both, to little degree. But it is not healthy to wallow in sadness. Life hurts, and then moves on.” He gave her hand a reassuring press.

“How is your mother?” Jane said.

“Not good. But she told me to come here today, told me to get more wild tales to tell her. Are you sure you have not bedded your turian? Mother will not tell,” he coaxed.

Jane laughed. “Sadly, I haven’t. I have kissed him, many times.”

“How disgraceful! Was it good?”

“Get your own turian, try it out.”

“Never. But maybe asari, in future.”

“Quite the shocker. Never knew you had a thing for smurfs.”

“If I cannot say bird, you cannot say smurf.” he said with a hint of accusation in his voice.

“Yeah yeah. Hand me the bottle.”

 

By the time Jane was on route to her own room, she was a little tipsy. Her mother still hadn’t moved from her locked hotel room, but there was a small shining through a crack under the door. Jane put her ear to the wooden surface. She could hear the voice of a man, tinged with a small sound distortion. The voices were familiar, and she remembered hearing it before. Hannah was watching old holo-vids of hers and Jonathan’s wedding day, vacations, and perhaps the one where she’d told him he was going to be a dad. Jane had only seen that a few times. The big happy smile of Jonathan Shepard when he was informed he was going to be a father was one of the things that made Jane really miss the dad she never had. She raised her hand to knock on the door, but froze midair. She’d been drinking. Her mother was sure to notice. She let her hand drop. Feeling more than a little ashamed, she walked back to her own bed and tried to sleep.

 

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **August 19** **th** **–** **Gagarin Station** **–** **Barracks – O** **ne Day before semester start**

The bio-barracks was quiet and empty when Shepard walked in. She checked out the main room and picked the bunk next to a side exit. The keypad on the locker adjacent to the bunk blinked ‘ _ready.’_ Shepard wasn’t sure she was ready for another year. She punched in a new code and started stuffing clothes onto the shelves. Changing from civvies to the Conatix suit was like stepping into a different mindset. She was now one in the crowd instead of an individual. It felt familiar. The main bulk of students would get here on opening day, and she used her early arrival to snatch the best bunk. It would allow her some freedom in getting in and out more or less unnoticed, whenever the mood struck her. The private trainer room of last year was gone, but maybe Chellick would become one. It would make things a little smoother for them, but if not they had to improvise. Unless it was a better idea to call it off, she reflected. No fuss, no scandal. No Chellick. The whole situation was getting too complicated. Shepard pulled the remaining clothes from her bag and shoved them into her locker in frustration. Third year biotics were exempt from military room standards, and there would be no inspections. She dropped down on her bunk, and the springs gave a small squeak. Great. Not discreet at all.

A low chuffing laughter came from the entrance, and the shadow of a turian fell on the floor.

“Decian!”A huge smile broke on her face.

“Jane. Great to see you,” he said and scooped her into a hug. Shepard gave an undignified squeal as he lifted her up from the floor. Over the summer he had gained at least ten centimeters, and his fringe horns had grown longer. He huffed into her hair and she could feel the warmth almost radiate from his body. Regardless of his new height, he looked amazing, and she told him that after he sat her down.

“Thanks. I’ve hit my last growth spurt. Too bad you’re still so short.” He leaned down and kissed her.

“I like you anyway.”

“How generous of you,” she smiled. “Your fringe is.. very long. Elegant. Looks dashing.”

Her words seemed to delight Chellick, making his neck flush dark blue, and he subconsciously turned his head in profile a few times to show it to her.

“I, uh.. That’s.. very nice of you. So, I was thinking, since the station is more quiet than usual, we could have a meal together, somewhere in private?”

“I’d love that. Captain Corinthus caught me when I came off the shuttle, he asked me to go over the inventory for my group before the next trainer takes over. Gloves, pads, mats, the works. We can go after that.”

“Great. I’d help out, but I’ve received a message to appear before the captain as soon as I arrived,” he said.

“And you’re not there?”

“No, had to make sure you were back. And dazzle you with my amazing size.”

Shepard looked away with a guarded expression. She wasn’t about to touch that one. Not yet, at least. She tenderly hooked her index fingers under the tips of both mandibles and pulled him in for one last kiss.

“See you later, gorgeous.” she said. Chellick grinned and strutted out like a king. Shepard shook her head in amusement. Flattery was universal, and in her opinion, males were the most susceptible ones.

 

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **August 19** **th** **–** **Gagarin Station** **–** **Gym Store Room – 17:03**

Shepard snapped the last store cupboard shut and wrote down the numbers. Low on turian gloves. The damn things tore after a few days if the students didn’t file down their talons. Everything else was in order and her successor would have an easy time taking over. She felt pretty good about that, and she also had plenty of time to get ready for her dinner with Chellick. This was turning out to be a good day.

As she stepped outside she saw a bunch of new recruits gathered in the sand pit for what sounded like standard horseplay. Even if she was no longer a trainer, she was curious to see what the newbies were capable of, and she had a couple of minutes to spare. Strolling closer she heard the normal shouting of frenzied teen boys cheering for their friends, but among them there was an unmistakable flanging voice desperately trying to be heard over the din. It was cut short by sounds of stomping feet. Shepard swore and started shoving her way to the front. A bunch of humans ganging up on a turian and beating the crap out of him would be disastrous for everyone on the station.

The interference of a biotic among the regular soldiers would make her really popular, but rather that than stand before captain Corinthus and explain how she let this one slide. The human wall around the fighters gave way when she jammed sharp elbows in whatever soft tissue she could reach, and she propelled herself onto the pitch.

Two humans was taking turns kicking a fallen silver-plated turian, and there was a small pool of blue on the sand. The recruits standing around them in a semi circle screamed at her to ‘ _get the fuck outta there’_ and ‘ _kill that turian_.’ She took in the spectacle in seconds and quickly strode into the middle of the pit. The crowd jumped several steps back when her entire body glowed purple, and a few more steps when she charged both hands. The charge only took a few seconds. She braced herself, discharging straight into the human recruits still kicking the downed turian. The biotic lifts hit both of them with a hollow _thw_ _o_ _mp_ sound, jerking them up and sending them screaming and soaring into the air. The turian coughed more blue blood onto the sand and rolled over on his stomach. He cast a bleary eye on the floating humans, clutching his side in agony.

Shepard spun around. “Anyone else wants a go?” she said in a dead calm voice that carried over the crowd.” Her words was followed by a stricken silence, apart from the strangled gasps from the huddled turian.

“This is not how we train at this facility! You are going to be soldiers! Not thugs brawling in the streets. Who’s your assigned trainer?”

There was a low murmur, but no one stepped forward to answer. Behind her the lifts gave out and there were audible thuds and yells of pain when the two boys hit the ground. She didn’t bother to turn around.

“So, the Alliances new soldiers just felt they should take it upon themselves to beat up one of their fellow recruits, do they? You there!” she barked at the biggest recruit in the crowd. “Front and center!”

He shuffled to the front. “Name and squad?”

“Todd Erikson, mam. First and third squad in attendance. We report to captain Corinthus.” he said through gritted teeth. Erikson looked angry for being singled out, and probably for reporting to a turian, and he met her eyes with a scornful smirk. Shepard curled her upper lip. Mam? Why not, as long as it allowed her to control the situation.

“Well, recruit Erikson, you will be responsible for taking your whole damn crew to the captain. Give a full recounting of what happened here. I will give my own later, and yours better corroborate mine. Bring those two morons with you.” She gestured to the recruits sprawled out on the pitch. “Dissmissed!” Her hand still shimmered menacingly purple, and Erikson resentfully obeyed. He told two of his team mates to help up the fallen brawlers, and they all made their way down toward the officer’s alley.

The turian on the ground had his blue eyes fixed on her with a distrustful stare. His colony markings were deep blue, and complimented his eyes. She sighed and bent down, offering her hand and shoulder.

“Come on, big guy. We need to get you to the medic. I'm pretty sure all that blue stuff is supposed to be on the inside.”

He chuffed a laugh, causing more blood to trickle down his mouth plates. “I was winning, you know.”

She shook her head, smiling. “Sure you were. I just wanted to ruin your fun, since you're oozing blood all over my sand pit.”

“Turians don't ooze,” he protested with a small smile.

“Mhm...”

He almost toppled over, and she grabbed him around the waist and hoisted his arm around her shoulder. He tensed immediately and tried to wriggle out of her grip. She knew why, but as a human supporting a tall spiky alien, that left her few options.

“Stop that. It's either this or I drag you by a spur to the doctor.”

“But I.. that’s... all right.” He sounded dejected, as if he could stoop no lower this moment.

“Don't worry about those just assholes, not all humans are like that. You'll get a chance to pay them back later. Same squad?”

The turian tried not to limp, and failed miserably. She adjusted her position so that she carried more of his weight, and he practically clung on her for support.

“No, I'm squad four. I was just exploring the station, and they jumped me, you know. I didn’t start that.”

“I believe you. They probably thought they could haze some random turian because the station is almost vacant. I’ll help you get even, don’t worry.”

He huffed at this, but she couldn't read his expression and changed the subject.

“First year in basic?”

“Yeah, I'm 15, it's mandatory. Never thought I'd be sent to Jump Zero's exchange program. Probably because my dad's high tier, they want to prove the Hierarchy is serious about cooperation. You?”

“Same thing here. I'm 17, mom is high in the fleet, and since I turned out to be a biotic, I was enlisted in Biotic Acclimation and Temperance training. Didn’t expect our instructors to be mainly turians. Conatix seems to believe having turians yell at you and berate you for sucking at controlling your powers is good for morale.”

The silver turian hacked a laugh at this, and she flashed him an encouraging smile.

He changed his grip on her shoulder and threw her a careful glance. “So, you're 17? You look older.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow. “Well, fuck you too.”

He looked startled before he saw she wasn't really angry.

“I meant, they followed your orders so readily, I thought you were..”

Now she was openly grinning at him and he decided to stop digging a deeper hole for himself. It was his turn to change the subject.

“So, humans also start military training from 15?”

“Nah. We usually start at 18, but biotics are expected to start earlier to gain some control over our powers, lest we kill everyone around us with a flick of the wrist. The Alliance send those of us who are stable enough to brain camp, and since the program is stuffed with turians, military training is part of the package.” She shuddered. “Commander Vyrnuus is my personal demon here. If he could throw me out the airlock and get away with it I bet I'd be slowly bobbing around the station with a look of frozen surprise on my face.”

“Demon?”

“That’s like an evil spirit.”

Now it was the turians turn to shudder. “There's no such thing.”

“Ah, well, that's your opinion. Here we are.”

They had arrived at the medical center, and she pushed open the door for them and helped him in. Liscus the receptionist saw the blood and called for a doctor over the comms. Minutes later doctor Publius appeared alongside a human porter pushing a stretcher.

“I'm doctor Publius. Got in a fight already, did we? Please sit down on this.” The turian first-year sat down. Shepard nodded to him and turned to leave.

“Wait!” he called after her, and she turned back, “I don't know your name. I'm Garrus Vakarian, pleased to have met you.” He held out his right hand for a handshake, and flared his mandibles in a grateful smile.”

 

A long stunned pause followed while Shepard stared dumbfounded at the young turian. A powerful undercurrent of emotions told her the ground had disappeared from under her, causing her to fall and the underground cave contained her worst dreams and nightmares: Images of her mother crying at Jonathan’s grave, the memorial placard with thousands of names, herself getting caught kissing Chellick, Anderson’s disapproving stare, her smiling skeletal father telling the camcorder he was going to be the worlds best dad, commander Vyrnnus cruel laughter, newsfeed of Galenus Vakarian acquitted by the Hierarchy for war crimes, Galenus Vakarian appointed as the executor of the Citadel, Galenus Vakarian with his blue eyes, light gray plates and blue colony markings, ordering her father to his death. It all blurred together until the image of Galenus morphed into the puzzled face of his son Garrus, slowly lowering his arm.

She stared wide eyed at the young turian, the personification of her family’s misery and loss. A representative of a species they’d warred with for years. Shepard’s own clandestine affair with a turian suddenly weighed on her conscience like high treason, and her entire body tensed like a tightly wound spring. Doctor Publius saw her reaction and was quicker on the uptake than either of them.

“Yes, well, you can greet later, we need to look at your injuries immediately.” He started pulling the gurney away from her. Shepard backed away slowly with a look of utter loathing at the personification of evil in front of her. Garrus, on the other hand, remained clueless. He put his hand down.

“Did I not do that right? Please, tell me your name before you go.”

Shepard remained tongue-tied, staring at him with a blank expression and continued ti back away.

Garrus hitched himself up and caught her arm. “Hey, I didn't mean to offend-”

She jerked away from him like she’d been given an electrical shock and grabbed the tip of his keel bone.

“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me!” she snarled.

Publius started to pat his jacket pockets with a desperate urgency. Shepard’s free fist crackled with biotic energy and she slammed it into Garrus’ midsection while simultaneously unleashing a blast that sent him sprawling backwards into the corridor. He crashed into the wall with tremendous force, broken picture frames and glass scattered around him upon impact. Behind them Liscus was shouting for security. As Garrus slid off the wall and collapsed on the floor, Shepard took one step forward, preparing another assault. His eyes bulged in fear and he made a pitiful attempt at crawling away from her, breath rasping. Pieces of broken glass protruded through his clothes and stained his Conatix suit blue. The metallic smell of blood and the sight of the broken turian before her shot a cold sensation of dread searing up her spine, and she hesitated. It was long enough for Publius to run up behind her and jab a syringe in her neck, releasing a powerful sedative into her bloodstream. Shepard’s mind scrambled as she was overcome by the drug. A rapid exchange of distorted images flashed through her head as she fell. The last incoherent thought flashing through her head was recruit Erikson’s face as he cheered her on while she was kicking a turian lying on blue sand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bwahaha, I've been waiting almost 70 000 words to write this encounter. Difficulty letting go indeed. I know many of you were probably hoping for a different start, but we were heading in this direction all along. :) Let me know what you think in the comment sections, complaints and vitriol allowed. :) 
> 
> As usual, if you spot any mistakes, I will correct them when made aware. ;)


	14. Nemesis part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard must face the consequences of her actions, and Garrus learns the world is an unjust place.

**217** **4** **CE –** **August** **20** **th** **–** **Gagarin Station** **–** **Hospital Post-op 07:24 AM**

The beeping sound of the heart rate monitor was the first thing Garrus noticed when he awoke. The room was dark except for the lights on the machine glowing like small beams and the jumping light column representing his heart. The second was that his mouth was parched. He painstakingly lifted himself to his elbows and looked around for something to abate his thirst. A small drinking bottle could be seen in sheen from the lights. It was placed on a table next to his bed, and he took it and drank greedily. Somewhere in the room someone stirred, and Garrus turned his head to the sound, trying to adjust his eyes.

“Who’s there?” he asked with a voice like gravel. “Doctor?”

The seated person gave a short flat laughter, revealing it as male before he switched on a lamp beside him. The sudden brightness made Garrus’ eyes hurt, and he momentarily turned away, closing them briefly. The unknown male gave a small scoff and idly scratched his spur. Garrus had never seen him before. He was a barefaced turian of an indeterminate gray-green plate shade, clad in a station instructor’s uniform. After yesterdays run in with the humans inhabiting this station, the presence of a turian should have felt reassuring, but Garrus felt his plates itch. Something in the man’s face was wrong. His eyes were cold and the continuous flicks of his mandibles made Garrus uneasy. The young turian searched around the room for a call button for the nursing staff, until he saw the older turian casually flipping it around his talons. He sank back on the bed while his visitor smiled.

“Vakarian the younger. Son of Executor Vakarian, scourge of smugglers and slavers in Citadel space,” he said in a mock friendly tone. “Such an honor to have the future of the Hierarchy on our humble station.” He made an artful pause before continuing: “That is, prior to you almost starting a race riot all by your lonesome less then three hours after coming aboard.”

There was an unmitigated tinge of glee in the barefaced turian’s voice. Garrus said nothing, merely stared in bewilderment at him. How was he in trouble? He’d done nothing wrong, had he? The humans were the ones at fault for this, they nearly killed him. The evidence for this was right on his body.

“Lost your tongue, boy? Got nothing to say against the human’s allegations?”

Garrus bared his teeth angrily. The heart rate monitor picked up the pace, and he tore off the chest sensor in annoyance. So that’s how it was, huh? He got knocked out and they blamed him for everything while he was unconscious? Fucking humans.

“I have done nothing wrong, sir! I got jumped on the sand pit by several humans, they started shoving me around and hitting me. I tried to fight back, but they were too many,” he said, fuming.

“I see. So you couldn’t handle a few humans. Disappointing,” the older turian remarked and pulled out a datapad, making notes. “What happened then?”

Garrus was taken aback by the callous words, but continued. “They managed to get me on the ground, two of them continued to kick me to prevent me from getting up. Then another human came, a girl. She did some biotic thing, making them fly into the air and away from me.”

This sparked some interest from the instructor. He looked up and stared intently at Garrus. “Really? One at the time or both of them?” he asked.

“Both of them, sir. She ordered them to report to the captain, and then helped me up. She almost carried me to this hospital, sir, which is why I don’t understand why she attacked me later.”

“Just like that? No warning?”

“I introduced myself and asked her name. She looked at me like I had, I don’t know, insulted her. She was going to leave, and I took her hand to ask what I’d done wrong. Then she slammed me into the wall. I thought she was going to end me,” Garrus said, trying to remember what might have set the biotic girl off. Handshake was the human way of greeting, his father had told him. There had been no other interaction between them.

“I see,” said the turian and made more notes. “Well, that covers your side of it. Let me explain how this looks to the humans.”

Feeling apprehensive, Garrus clawed his talons on the sheets.

“The son of a high-tier turian arrives at Gagarin. He starts a fight he cannot possibly win with a bunch of humans, before getting rescued by another human, who happens to be biotic. This human brings him to the hospital wing for treatment. When they arrive, this young turian introduces himself to the human girl, when she tries to leave, he attempts to grab her to pick another fight. She responds by using biotics on him in self-defense. He’s knocked out, and she is placed in the brig for fear of reprisals from the boy’s father. With me so far?” the older turian said with a small smile.

“That’s not true,” Garrus growled, “I never attacked her! It was her!”

Ignoring his outburst, the turian continued. “The humans are outraged that the son of Vakarian the elder cannot control himself, even going so far as attacking the very human that helped him. And the whole thing spirals out of control when it’s discovered that the helpful human is none other than Jane Shepard, daughter of the infamous Hannah Shepard. Galenus Vakarian’s disregard for human lives had been passed over to his son, and said son tries his best to continue his father’s work. What do you think of the story so far?”

Garrus mind raced to catch up with this information. A Shepard? That girl was a Shepard? No wonder she had it in for him. He clambered as best he could so he could sit up on the bed. Several of the bandages came loose and he felt the medigel under them come off and the wounds starting to seep small amounts of blood. The physical pain was nothing compared to the pang of injustice he felt by this spurious untruth perpetrated by the humans, and _her_ in particular.

“That’s a damn lie!” he shouted, “a big fucking lie! I never hurt anyone!”

“No?” the turian opposite him asked in a sweet voice. “Then what of this report from your last school? You got into another fight you couldn’t win, and you.. oh dear, you bit the other boy without prior agreement or consent, committing anathema.”

Garrus froze in horror. How could he possibly know that. Those records were supposed to be sealed. The older turian chuckled darkly.

“And now you see the problem. A young turian with a track record of wrongful behavior, set against the words of a paragon of interspecies cooperation. Shepard has quite a few turian friends on the station, trained many of them herself. It would surely be inconceivable that she would attack you without good cause, Vakarian or no Vakarian.”

The unfairness at this whole situation stuck in Garrus’ gizzard. He was getting blamed for nearly being killed. How was this just?

“And then there is the matter of how this will reflect on your clan, boy. If this becomes a public case with hearings and press, things will come out that could smear the Vakarian name for generations,” the turian said, sounding very pleased. Garrus hung his head and his fringe at the last comment. One day among the humans, and he would bring years of shame on his family, without actually doing anything. His visitor seemed to savor his misery, and he added in an almost happy voice;

“There is a solution to all of this, if you care to hear it.”

Garrus jerked his head up. “What?”

“If you were to sign a statement saying this was all a misunderstanding, you might have unintentionally provoked the humans, there will be no complaints filed and you would prefer it was handled locally, I think we can keep all these unfortunate events under wraps,” he said and motioned to his datapad. “Everything will be expunged from the record.”

“But, that would mean they would get away with it,” Garrus protested.

“Yes. It would also mean that the rest of Palaven wouldn’t know that Vakarian the younger is a warmongering little runt, picking fights, fighting humans and committing anathemas wherever he goes,” the older male snapped. “An easy choice, all things considered.”

Garrus’ talons tore through his sheets. Those humans had outplayed him and left him no choice.

“I’ll do it,” he murmured.

“Excellent.” The gray-green turian handed him a datapad, and Garrus scribbled down words that would absolve his attackers from all guilt before he tossed it back. The older turian stood up to leave.

“And if you will excuse me, I have another meeting I need to get to. Rest up, I have a feeling you will need it,” he said as he left, leaving Garrus alone with the nagging sensation that he should have asked the other male his name.

 

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **August** **20** **th** **–** **Gagarin Station** **–** **the** **brig** **– 0** **7** **:** **52**

When Shepard woke up, it was in an unfamiliar room stripped of everything except bare necessities. A sink, a toilet and a bunk bed were the only things inside the cage except for herself. Her head felt like a roadkilled pyjak, and when she rolled around on the bunk she felt something strapped around her neck. After a few seconds of exploration with her fingers, she recalled the shape of the device. It was a primitive bio-inhibitor, used for dangerous biotic prisoners. She closed her eyes and rubbed her aching temples as the events of the previous day flooded back. The recollection made her shrink. She’d really fucked up royally this time. That turian, she tried to not think of his name, had done nothing to deserve that blast. Not to mention the fact he’d been already injured. A strange mix of shame and anger welled up inside her chest. Who’s stupid idea was it to place a member of _that_ family on this station while she was still here? The fact that she had no excuse for her actions only made her angrier, both with herself and _that turian_. He could have kept his trap shut until she’d left, and perhaps she would have been forewarned next time she saw him. Instead, he tried to stop her, he even touched her. Just the thought of that gave her jitters.

The sound of approaching footsteps made her struggle onto her feet and await the arrival of their owner. With her customary luck it would be captain Corinthus, or maybe even Vyrnnus, if he had arrived on the station. It was neither of them. The turian that stepped inside was Chellick.

Shepard gave him a tired smile. “Hi, Decian.”

He made no reply, merely stared at her like she was an unknown entity. Shepard walked up to the bars and reached her hand out to him. He made no attempt to take it. They looked at each other through the bars in what, to Shepard, appeared like an eternity.

“Is it true?” he finally said.

“Which part,” she asked as she let her hand fall to her side.

“That you almost killed a turian first-year yesterday.” His voice was dull, but underneath was a desperate hope, trembling in his subvocals. She felt sick to her stomach, knowing that she was about to crush it.

“It is.” She tapped her fingers on the collar around her neck. “They don’t give you one of these for nothing.”

Chellick bored his eyes into hers. “This amuses you? It’s funny you almost killed someone?” He took one step forward, and his tall figure was now so dangerously tense, she instinctively took one step back and was glad there were bars between them. This was Decian, her funny and adorable Decian, transformed into an angry predator with his sights set on her. The situation was not funny at all.

“No,” she said and looked away.

“Why?” he demanded.

Shepard considered making an excuse, but there was none to be found. She opted for honesty.

“Because his name was Vakarian,” she answered, still looking intently at the wall of her cell, avoiding his eyes.

“That’s it? A name? A family feud none of you were to blame for?” He sounded shocked.

She wanted to explain, to tell Chellick about the seconds before she blasted Garrus Vakarian, but she knew it would only enrage him further. That she felt she betrayed her family by caring for him? The thousands of names on a placard in Siberia that the young turian had no blame for? Garrus’ resemblance of his father? They were all true, and they were rationalizations of the fact that she lost control of her anger and unleashed on someone that didn’t have it coming. There was no explanation that would exonerate her.

“Yes,” she said in a hollow voice and waited for judgment.

Chellick looked hurt, as if she’d stolen something precious from him.

“So that’s it. That’s all it takes for the Shepard family to harm others, a shared name,” he said after a while. “I was warned about thinking to highly of you, but I thought you were better than this. Perhaps you are just like your mother underneath, hating all turians under a thin veneer of friendship.”

“Decian, please don’t… I never pretended with you. You’ve become one of my best friends. Much more than a friend, I truly care for-...”

“Stop!” he cut her off. “I don’t want to hear. Whatever we were, it’s over. Done! I won’t be friends with murderers.”

_Murderer_.

The word struck in her mind like a hammerblow. That’s what she could have been if she hadn’t been stopped. The lingering anger from earlier dissipated as she was forced to look at her actions from his perspective. That turian could have been dead because she didn’t restrain herself. She stepped further back from the bars with a blank expression on her face. Chellick saw it and misinterpreted it as indifference. He clamped his mandibles to his face.

“I waited for you yesterday, you know. When you didn’t show, I searched everywhere for you. When they told me what you hand done, I refused to believe it. But I see the truth now. You’re no different than the humans that hurt that kid on the pitch, Shepard. In fact, you’re worse, and you deserve what’s coming to you,” he said with a look of utter disgust on his face.

Shepard, she thought. Not Jane. Not anymore. Yesterday she’d have given anything for a room alone with him. Today she could no longer bear watching his disappointed face. She cleared her throat so as to not betray her feelings when she spoke next.

“I don’t disagree with you,” she said in a low voice. “Would you please leave?”

She walked back to the bunk and sat down, trying hard to hold back tears. Chellick opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to decide if it was worth saying anything else, but decided against it. Instead he stormed out and slammed the door behind him. Shepard gritted her teeth and forced the tears back. She would be in front of a hearing board in a matter of hours, and she would not be seen as weak. Her actions were wrong, but she could end this in the right way. Admit her guilt, and accept whatever punishment they came up with. Chellick was right. She deserved whatever they threw at her.

 

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **August** **20** **th** **–** **Gagarin Station** **–** **the b** **rig –** **08:41** **AM**

When captain Corinthus marched into the station brig, he didn’t know what to expect from Shepard. He had imagined that she would perhaps rail and complain that she’d been drugged, collared and imprisoned, but she hadn’t mentioned that with a word. Instead she listened to the charges of reckless endangerment, bodily harm and willful imperilment of another student’s physical well being with a deadened expression that worried him. Commander Vyrnnus drove his biotics hard enough that some of them snapped, but Shepard had seemed immune to the commander’s harsh treatment. He had a good idea of what drove Shepard to injure the Vakarian boy, and she confirmed his suspicions with a simple “Yes.” Feuds were not that uncommon on Palaven, and the captain cursed himself for not checking that Shepard and Vakarian had both arrived early. Still, it was no pardon for this kind of behavior. He shuddered to think of what might have happened. The boy was stable, but badly injured. From the corner of his eye he saw that Shepard continued to wear an empty expression while answering his questions in monosyllables or short sentences. During the interview, she kept touching the collar around her neck, but omitted nothing and did nothing to try and justify her actions. When he asked why, she merely said ‘because he’s a Vakarian.’ Nothing else. Corinthus rubbed his crest in exasperation. With no other explanations for the attack, Shepard would be expelled from the BAat-program, and the repercussions would carry all the way to the highest echelons in their respective governments. The lesson taken from this station would be that old enemies would never become allies. He sighed and tucked the pad away, then signaled Shepard to get up and follow him. The review board was assembled, and they were expected.

 

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **August** **20** **th** **–** **Gagarin Station** **–** **impromptu review board office** **–** **09:15** **AM**

The board sat a mere 10 minutes deliberating after Corinthus had repeated Shepard’s account of the attack. When she was called in front of them she knew the sentence would be expulsion. There was no other possible outcome, and she was glad it didn’t drag out in a long and heated discussion where she had to defend her position with lame arguments. Better to be up front and get it over with. A turian female on the board clasped her talons and leaned forward.

“Are you sure you have nothing else to add, recruit Shepard? This does not bode well for your future at the station.”

“No, mam.” Shepard said calmly.

The turian female leaned back. “Very well. Then I’m sorry to inform you that..”

“Might I have a say in this?” came a very familiar and unwelcome voice. Vyrnnus had arrived.

“All right, commander Vyrnnus, but this board will not change it’s opinion on your recommendation alone,” the female said.                                                                                                                          
“Then perhaps a look at another piece of evidence would sway the board,” he said with a quick smirk in Corinthus direction. “I’m afraid the good captain has only gathered damning information from one side.”

Vyrnnus emphasized the word good, letting it linger a second before he continued his speech. The captain twitched his mandibles in irritation. He cast a glance at Shepard, and saw that she was completely unaware of whatever ruse her instructor was up to.

“I have spoken to the young Vakarian, and he has admitted his complicity in yesterdays lamentable events. Being new on this station, he unintentionally aggravated the humans, leading to these two violent incidents. Even though Shepard’s actions later in that afternoon was reprehensible, she was also the one that saved Vakarian on the pitch. This must be taken into account before the verdict is pronounced.”

Vyrnnus tapped his onmi-tool, and sent a copy of Garrus’ statement to the board and Corinthus.

They read it and turned to Corinthus. A human board-member asked;

“Captain, what do you say to this? If the boy was awake, you should have spoken to him as well as Shepard.”

The captain stood up. “I was told he was still asleep, and with Shepard’s explanation, it didn’t seem pertinent,” he said and glared at Vyrnnus. That bastard had gotten to the boy, but how? Shepard flicked her eyes between Corinthus and Vyrnnus, a faint glimmer of hope appearing on her face.

“Nevertheless, Shepard has acted in a despicable manner, regardless of provocation. Are we merely to let her stay? Without any reaction?” the turian female snapped.

“Off course not,” Vyrnnus smiled. “Shepard must learn that her actions have consequences. The board, with a little input from myself, will come up with a fitting punishment. One that will both correct and instruct. After all, she is not the only guilty party here.” Corinthus heard the cruel whinge in Vyrnnus ‘ subvocals and winced. It might be better for Shepard to be sent off the station.

“I must impress the board with the severity of attacking a fellow student. Shepard must be expelled,” he implored.

“Must, captain?” the human man said. “This board must and will do nothing by your orders.”

“I agree with the commander,” the female said. “This is better solved here in this ensemble, rather than involving other parties.” She pointed at Shepard. “Recruit, you will leave while we discuss disciplinary actions.”

The board seemed relieved at having been given another option, and Shepard was led outside by a guard.

“So, Vyrnnus, what is your plan?” a male turian board-member asked.

“It’s harsh but effective,” the commander said and began laying out his idea.

 

 

* * *

 

Shepard stood completely still outside the meeting room, trying to eavesdrop anything from inside. The voices were muffled, except for a few outbursts from what sounded like Corinthus. At one point a big argument broke out, and she tried to shuffle closer to the door, but was yanked back by the scruff of her neck by the guard. She glared at him, but said nothing. This was not the day to start a brawl. For some reason, and she couldn’t fathom why, Vyrnnus had appeared like some guardian angel and was prepared to fight to keep her on the station. Under the righteous voice that told her she deserved to be thrown out, was a smaller more treacherous voice that whispered that she still might make it, if she looked appropriately contrite and apologized. The latter was gaining the upper hand when the door burst open and captain Corinthus stomped out. He gave her a fast angry glance and walked off. Vyrnnus promenaded out after him. He gave Shepard an unctuous smile before grabbing her shoulder, boring his talons into her flesh. Shepard yelped in pain, and that made his smile even wider.

“With me, Shepard. We have some things to discuss.”

She was practically dragged by her shoulder to an unoccupied room and thrown inside. Vyrnnus grabbed her collar and stuck a small key into the lock, releasing her from the shackles. Rubbing her neck, she turned to face him when he backhanded her hard across the face. Shepard fell backwards on the floor, blood streaming from a split lip.

“That is for causing me no end of trouble before school is even in session, Shepard,” he growled.

“And if you think you have a cause for complaint, you can take that up with Corinthus. He’s very upset with you as well, though not for the same reason I am.”

Shepard licked blood of her lips and got up carefully, watching his every move.

“That’s right. Respect. That’s what you’ll show me every spiritsdamned day you remain on this station. I am the reason you’re still here, and I am the only reason you’ll remain here. One word from me, and you’re bound and collared and shipped in a cell to Arcturus. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” She had problems speaking clearly.

“Good. Now I will say I’m impressed. You sent the poor boy several meters backwards by a flick of the hand.” He sounded pleased. “I also heard you sent the humans that first attacked him flying, keeping both of them airborne for a good long while. Very impressive. Not as inept as most of your kind, eh, Shepard?”

“You would know, you've pushed me often enough.”

“For your benefit, human. Now we see the results.” He leaned on his desk and crossed his arms.

“The board doesn’t see that as I do. They want penance from you, and I have thought of a way for you to show some,” he made a grimace, “personal growth. You will be assigned squad 4 as a leader. Mostly turians, in the hope that will cure you of randomly attacking my kind. Furthermore, every squad member who fails will count towards your expulsion. You'll organize their training, find their weaknesses and mold them into soldiers worthy of the turian army. You yourself must be the best if they are to be the best, none of that Alliance crap your people do. You will become as close to turian as you can, or die trying. If I find that you set them up for failure, you will be discharged from the program. Perhaps an asari strip club will take you in, if you can learn to use your biotics for more intimate means.”

Shepard gasped. This was an even more sadistic version of Vyrnnus. She never believed she’d come to miss the old one. “But I'm done with squad training, I'm in bio-temperance this year.”

“Oh, you'll do both, or you'll do neither. Condition one, if too many of your squad fail at the 6 month field exam and the war games at the end of year, you'll have failed as well, and you're gone.”

“There will be no time for-” Shepard began, but Vyrnnus cut her off.

“I'll see to any extra classes you'll need.” He smiled again, and the smile was decidedly unpleasant.

“Condition two, Vakarian the younger is in that squad. If he fails, you fail.”

She stiffened and stared intently at the floor. No! Never, she screamed inwardly. That little brat was going to ruin things for her a second time.

“Yes, that choice is deliberate, and you’ll accept it and learn to love it. If not, you’re gone.” He gave a small laugh.

“Your squad will know this is a punishment for you, and they'll expect you to fail them. It's twice as hard to earn the trust of someone that dislikes you from the start. And you're a biotic. They'll love you all right, and not just Vakarian. The board wants to see remorse, and you’ll give them that by cooperating with turians as a team, Vakarian especially.”

Shepard searched desperately for an out, but saw no leeway in his face. She would accept his outrages demands, or be expelled. Loose her chance at the N7 program. David would be disappointed. Her mother would be furious _and_ disappointed, a very bad combination indeed. And Garrus _had_ been further injured due to her lapse in control. And Chellick was still here. There was no telling whether it was possible to accomplish two classes at once, but there was a chance. A small one, and she would take it.

“I agree to your conditions.”

“Of course you do, Shepard. You're an ambitious little shit, but not without skills. As long as you stay on the station, your ass belongs to me. If you complain about harsh treatment, I’ll have you thrown out. If you complain about training getting too rigorous, you’re out. If you do anything to piss me off again, you’re out. See a pattern here?”

Shepard yearned to punch the turian straight in the face, but restrained herself to balling her fists and muttering a “Yessir!” through her injured mouth. The taste of blood was still pungent.

“Would you look at that? Progress already. Now, say thank you for helping you to stay.”

The taste of defeat was worse than the taste of blood. “Thank you, commander Vyrnnus.”

Vyrnnus laughed again and waved towards the door.

“I expect you in the line-up with squad 4 in the morning. You’re confined to quarters until then. Now get out.”

She controlled her face until she was outside the building, and then no amount of Vyrnnus could prevent her biotics from erupting in a glow of shimmering purple covering her entire body. Once the surge settled she started to walk back to her barracks. Since yesterday, the place had filled up with students, and several of them gawked at her bloody face. She ignored them, pulled a small towel from the locker and cleaned her lip. The task set by the board was almost impossible, and yet, there was no way in hell she would let that barefaced asshole break her, despite being encumbered with that worthless Vakarian. If only there was a way to repair the breach between her and Chellick. Perhaps she would get another chance to talk to him tomorrow, to mend fences now that she was no longer scheduled for transport out in the morning.

Shepard stayed put as the rest of the students left for the opening ceremony. She’d been ordered to stay, and not even Dmitri could have coaxed her into breaking more orders this day, even if they were from Vyrnnus.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's baaaack! Vyrnnus has been laying low for a few chapters, but now it's time to trot that old warhorse out again :) And since shit travels downhill, this will be unpleasant for not just Shepard. Bad times are coming. Any mistakes, let me know.  
> Comments and complaints are always welcome. :D


	15. Exams and other tribulations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and Vyrnnus get reacquainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The exam tiers are opposite from citizenship tiers for turians. One being the highest and then descending in score.

**217** **4** **CE –** **August** **2** **1** **st** **–** **Gagarin Station** **–** **Mess hall** **–** **06:59** **AM**

As soon as Shepard walked into the mess hall, she started checking around for Chellick, or just even one of her other friends. Not catching sight of them at first, she got up to the counter to get a breakfast tray. When she walked past a table of turians, there was a curious murmur rising as she went, but so far no outright hostility. The humans, however, were not so discreet. She recognized several members of squad 1 and 3, and they wolf whistled and gave scattered applause as she made her way further in. An ill omen of things to come. Shepard tried to keep a neutral face and ignore them. After fetching the tray, she spotted Emerus Victus sitting at their usual table, and took a few tentative steps in his direction. He didn’t see her, but was waving at someone else and she turned her head to see who. Arista had just walked through the door, smiling and making a beeline for his table. Chellick trudged in right behind her, and he spotted her immediately. While he kept walking, she saw his mandibles snap to his face, and when he sat down it was very pointedly with his back to her. Any hope of reconciliation with him this soon went out the window. Shepard turned back to the section with mostly humans and settled at a vacant table. She missed the glance Emerus now cast in her direction, before he gave Chellick a slightly disapproving look. Chellick paid him no mind and went to get breakfast.

Shepard checked the time and scarfed down her own food alone. There was no way she could afford to be late for her first squad meeting, and no reason to stick around the mess any longer then necessary.

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **August** **2** **1** **st** **–** **Training field** **–** **11:03** **AM**

The following midday had in Shepard’s mind, been a horrible trial. Not only was she the only biotic on the field, she was oldest squad leader, and her team consisted of Garrus Vakarian, Aius Uticensis, Nirea Tarpeian, Castor Sorio, Strabo Calan, Mevia Orestillan and Ivar Argyle. With six turians and one human, her squad was the only one with such a strong slant to one species, and she had an inkling suspicion it was done on purpose. If this punishment thing worked out, Vyrnnus would be hailed as a promoter of collaboration between former enemies. If it didn’t, the onus would be on her. He had set this up perfectly, a win at every scenario. As much as she despised the man, she admired his set-up.

There was close to 40 squads and around 300 recruits to be dispersed on the different squad leaders. There was expected to be a certain amount of washouts every year, and therefore they accepted more recruits than they expected to graduate. The other squads was given leaders from those in their second year of basic, among them Emerus, Celsus Corinthus and Chellick. She was a little surprised Arista wasn’t among the chosen. The female turian had been one of her best students in hand to hand, and Shepard knew she excelled in almost every class. She made a mental note of asking, if she ever got the chance again.

Shepard ran the squad through a handful of aptitude drills, and from the incoming results knew she had her work cut out for her. Argyle, as he’d asked to be called was the slowest of the bunch, but immensely strong for a human boy of fifteen. He’d done quite well when pitted against Castor. The turian had ended face down in the dirt, the drubbing somewhat lessened by Argyles big smile and offered hand from above. Aius was a snarky little devil, always a ready quip and a snide remark. Nirea had done the turian equivalent of rolling her eyes at him several times over, and even Shepard had to hide a smile every now and then. Mevia and Strabo was clean slates for now, but Garrus was going to be a problem.

He had been forced to abstain from several of the more physical tests due to his wounds. His explanation of the cause for this left the other turians wary at her, and understandably so. Garrus himself seemed to have some suppressed anger towards her, and she couldn’t blame him for that. No, there would be difficulties working with the Vakarian, not because he was antagonistic towards her, but because even after yesterdays humbling experience, she simply couldn’t stand him. He was an obnoxious little jerk, and he obeyed her orders to the letter with an air of silent rebuke. It was almost like he was daring her to find a fault with the way he carried out his duty, like he was trying to show her up. Taking down more notes on her pad, she tried to appear unaffected, but under the surface she glowered. Garrus had insisted on being allowed to participate in the gun aptitude tests, and even though his injuries to his right hand probably affected his score, he had an impressive accuracy with both assault rifles and sniper rifles. She copied the result from the target screen onto her datapad, and was engrossed in thought when a turian voice behind her made her jump.

“So, you're back with the grunts?” The voice belonged to Celsus.

She gave the turian an annoyed cursory glance. He too had grown over the summer, and his dark gray plates gave him a very handsome appearance. Shepard slapped the thought out of her head on the spot. No more turians.

Instead she gave him a halfhearted shrug and an apologetic smile. “Couldn’t stay away. Had to do something stupid to land myself here again.”

He grinned. “Never thought humans were this stupid. You continue to impress.”

Shepard gave him the finger. “And you're some random plain-plated turian, interfering with my assessments. Shove off.”

He chuckled. “Me? Plain? Hah! I take it you won't give me the whole story behind you landing your sorry ass back with the grunts?”

“Its almost like you can mind meld, nosy one. Been embracing eternity too much over the holiday?”

“I haven't tried any asaris yet, but that thing they do does sounds interesting. And I happen to be glad you’re back here. Going up against you this year should be fun. I rule squad 2, by the way.”

Aius had just made clean work of the shotgun maze and was gloating it over Mevia who had two misses. Shepard made another note, then looked up at Celsus.

“You _rule_ squad 2? Not afraid they'll commit mutiny, Oh king of the monkeys?”

He grinned again. “What, just because I got stuck with 4 humans? I consider it at challenge, since I'm going to follow in my fathers footsteps one day. He’s furious with you, by the way.”

“Believe me, I know,” she said, shaking her head and watched Castor miss several shots on a still standing target. Damn. That would require serious work.

“That doesn't look good,” Celsus observed and nodded at the screen. “If you need any advice on how to train your team, I'll be happy to help.”

The smugness in his tone grated her nerves, but the humor glinting in his eyes prevented her from getting angry.

“Have no trouble on my account, Your Majesty. At the end of this month you'll be begging me to let your squad learn from my guys.”

She flashed him her most glib smile. He laughed.

“A wager? Winner gets everlasting glory and the loser’s vendor tokens?

“Although I'll feel bad from taking food out of a starving turian’s mouth, a fool and his tokens are easily parted. You're on!”

He flared his mandibles to show the challenge was accepted and walked back to his own squad. Shepard followed him with her eyes as he left and was grateful at least one of her turian acquaintances still spoke to her. Once again she missed the scrutinizing glance from Emerus on herself.

 

When Shepard reviewed the results of the drills, a few of her team already distinguished themselves for certain classes based on performance and background. Aius and Argyle as a close quarter specialists, Nirea as a combat engineer, and Garrus as a sniper. The other three were more all-rounders, even if Castor was going to need several hours in the new Armax combat sim to get his accuracy up. At least he didn't flinch under fire during the simulation. Small blessings were better than none.

To keep up with her biotics classes, Vyrnnus had equipped her with a primitive wristband style omni-tool. It was blocked from making contact with the extranet and the station com-buoys, maintaining a strict two-way link between herself and the commander. He had assured her in his usual charming manner that any tampering with the device would lead to immediate expulsion. Shepard briefly considered asking if there was anything that wouldn't lead to that result, but kept her mouth shut. She couldn't afford to sass him anymore. After the regular recruits were done for the day, she was due to meet up in the library for studying biotic theory, and then a personal lesson with Vyrnnus during the station evening meal time. The library was a typical space library, filled with terminals, datapads and holoscreens and not a single paper book. Shepard usually liked to read, but the time schedule for these extra sessions sucked. She knew he’d done that on purpose to see if she’d complain, but instead she raided the vending machine for a pile of ration bars she ate in secret at the library. If Celsus actually won their bet, she’d be in trouble, Shepard mused, and arrived at the conclusion that the best course of action was to get through this day, then nab whatever she could get her hands on during breakfast time.

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **August** **2** **1** **st** **–** **Library** **–** **18:55 PM**

The silent buzz of her old omni-tool alerted her of an incoming message from the commander, and Shepard gathered her notes and went to meet him. The room he directed her to was their usual gym room, but he’d informed her that they would train wherever he saw fit. Just another one of his little quirks.

The mats were already laid out when she arrived. Shepard was puzzled, as they were rubber mats designed for outdoor use in rain and bad weather. They were rarely in use on a space station. Vyrnnus himself was clad in a training suit like her. He motioned her to take position opposite him, and she tossed her backpack aside and did as instructed.

“Much like your recruits, today you’ll be run through a series of tests. We’ll see how well you react, or how badly. You are not allowed to use offensive biotics against me, I’m not the one being tested. Are we clear?”

“Perfectly, sir,” she said.

“Good! Then let’s begin.”

A large dumbbell rose from the ground and launched straight at her. She blocked it easily with a barrier, but was taken aback by his follow up. He lunged at her and slashed his talons on her arm opening up three red gashes, dripping blood on the mat. She jumped back with a short yell. The copper smell of the red blood made Vyrnnus sneer.

“Disgusting.”

Shepard flicked wide eyes between the wounds and Vyrnnus. It dawned on her that the mats were placed down for a specific purpose.

“Well?” Vyrnnus smiled cruelly. “Something you’d like to say?”

There was plenty she _wanted_ to say, but now was not the time. One year, she repeated in her head, one year and she’d be gone. It wasn’t that long. She resumed position.

“No, sir. Would you like to go again?”

His mandibles flared so wide that all his teeth showed between his mouth plates.

“That’s the spirit. Let’s see if we can’t forge something out of that soft human flesh.”

She prepared for another biotic attack, but instead he stepped forward and stomped his two-taloned foot on top of hers, tearing through her sneaker and into the flesh. Shepard cried out in pain and sank to one knee, and he followed up with an elbow to the face, splitting her lip wide open again. Stepping back, he took in the sight of her spluttering blood on the mats, trying to get up.

“Giving up yet?” he taunted.

In her pain addled mind a stubborn sense of resistance made her pull herself up. That barefaced bastard fought like Wreav, cheating when he felt like it. She too could fight like that, or at least go down with the ship.

“Is that all you got?” The lip made her slur the words.

Vyrnnus smiled again. He was getting far too much enjoyment out of this. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Take your punishment like a turian.”

His third attack was again without biotics, but she was expecting him to fight unfair now, and she blocked his strike, evaded his rendering talon feet and managed to land a punch in the softer hide on his stomach.

“Oomph. Not bad,” he breathed. “But still not good enough.” He began a flurry of talon swipes at her, and while her hastily conjured barriers could take most of the impacts, the lacerations on her arms and body grew rapidly in number. She was forbidden to use biotics against him, so getting distance between them was nigh impossible. Even if doing the mandible yank would be immensely satisfying, she doubted the commander would appreciate her ingenuity. Instead she concentrated on defending as best she could, keeping as far away from his talons as possible, and trying to dodge or deflect the occasional biotic volley thrown in her direction while landing the odd cheap-shot herself.

 

After about an hour and a half, Shepard was bleeding from dozens of cuts and stumbling to keep up. The wounds gave off a burning sensation on her arms and she was feeling lightheaded. It forced her to grab the wall bars while she was gasping for air and flecks of red twinkled before her eyes. Luckily for her, Vyrnnus all of a sudden got an incoming call on his omni-tool, and he stopped his advance at once and held up a hand to silence her, and pressed ‘receive’.

“I’ve told you not to call me on this channel,” he hissed, “this had better be important!”

“It’s about our oldest friend,” the voice said, sounding nervous.

Vyrnnus put the call on hold at once. He shot a dark look at Shepard, who was too far gone to be interested in whatever deal Vyrnnus was involved in and was hanging on the wall bars to prevent herself from falling. He hoisted his own bag over his shoulder and walked over and grabbed her by the collar. “Lesson over, Shepard. Remember what I said about complaints.”

He picked up her backpack and thrust it in her arms before dragging her to the door and pushing her outside. The caller on the omni-tool sent a buzz, and Vyrnnus growled impatiently. “Yes yes, be right there.” Opening his own bag, he plucked out 4 packets of medigel and dropped them on the ground.

“That should be sufficient. Now get lost.” He slammed the door in her face.

Bending down very carefully, she picked up the medigel and placed them in her backpack. The training shirt she was wearing was torn to shreds, and she pulled it off and wiped her face on it, swapping it for a Conatix hoodie. It was big enough around the arms to prevent blood from seeping through the fabric, and the black sneakers hid the blood on her foot. This was not an ideal start of the semester, and tomorrow she would have to train with the other recruits despite her injuries. Fantastic.

Shepard limped her way towards the locker rooms for a shower, when she bumped into a familiar face. _Chellick_. Hoping he was in a better mood now, she tried to speak to him.

“Hi De..Chellick. Saw you’ve been made squad leader. Congratulations,” she said, giving him a cautious smile.

His posture tensed, but since she’d spoken to him, he couldn’t ignore her entirely.

“Yeah. Some of us get what we’ve earned, you know,” he said.

She didn’t rise to the bait.

“Couldn’t have happened to a better guy. Emerus and Celsus too. I’m just surprised Arista didn’t make the cut?”

His mandibles twitched irritably. “Why don’t you ask her yourself? Or are you too busy with your new friends?”

“You mean my squad? I haven’t had much time to get to know them yet.”.

“No, I meant the bigots that applauded you in the mess hall? Didn’t think that would get around?”

A twinge of shame made her avert her eyes. “I didn’t want that.”

“But you got it. You get a lot of things lately,” he said, sarcasm dripping of every syllable. Shepard pulled away from his, looking hurt. Perhaps it was foolish, but she’d hoped he of all people would give her another chance, instead of rubbing her face in her failure.

“I get everything that’s coming to me, don’t I?” she said, raising her head and giving him a false smile so wide her lip started bleeding again. His eyes widened when he saw her injured face, and he made a few tentative sniffs, smelling blood, but he composed himself quickly.

“Did you ever consider that you deserve _every_ part of it?” he barked, condemnation sparkling from his gaze. Seeing his hardened resolve, Shepard's initial hopes faltered and then crumbled entirely under the pressure.

“Even if I hadn’t, I’m so glad I have you to remind me,” she said quietly and brushed past him. There was no forgiveness to be found here, and she’d had enough of berating turians for one day. A burning sensation came behind her eyes, but she blinked furiously to force it back. No crying and no self pity, Shepard swore inwardly. The bed was made, and now she had to lie in it alone.

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **September 07** **th** **–** **Mess Hall** **–** **19:11 PM**

“Have you tried talking to her after that?” Emerus said in an irked tone. His friend’s endless whining was getting on his last nerves.

“No. Why should I?” Chellick asked, giving Emerus a disdainful look.

“Because if you really were done with her like you’ve blabbed about for the last two weeks, you wouldn’t force the rest of us to listen to this crap over and over again.”

Chellick didn’t answer, but continued to stab at his dinner with the fork. Emerus sighed. He had been just as upset with Shepard as Chellick when he first heard of the incident, but this was getting ridiculous. The few times he saw Shepard lately was at breakfast when she was stuffing food into her pockets whenever she believed herself to be unseen, and walking around before night cycle with a dazed and exhausted expression in the direction of the bio-barracks. She also carried around an aroma of medigel. Something was clearly amiss, but Chellick refused to see it, and his continued presence prevented Emerus from approaching Shepard himself. Arista was too busy with her special project, and that left him to deal with the pining and resentful turian seated on the other side. Emerus had thought of asking Celsus for moral support, but he had also started in the food thieving business, and levo food at that. After dinner the young Corinthus had taken to casually grab a few items of wrapped foodstuffs and pretending they were for him. Emerus had a funny feeling he knew where that food really went. This triangle thing could spell disaster for the participants, he reflected, but then again, if he had to listen to Chellick’s despondency for a whole year, he might just push the guy out of the station airlock. Better to move things along. Chellick opened his mouth to say something, but Emerus cut in first.

“So, Shepard seems a bit tense lately. Training with the squad in the morning, biotics in the evening. Might be due for some stress relief.”

His friend went visibly rigid.

“Who cares,” he mumbled through closed mandibles.

“I know you don’t, wasn’t talking about you,” Emerus replied smugly.

“Probably some racist human, clapping her every move like a trained pyjak,” Chellick growled.

Emerus chuffed. “You would think that, but no.” He took a strip of meat and dropped it in his mouth, savoring the taste and pretending to have no further interest in the matter. Across the table, Chellick was staring at him irately.

After a loosing inner battle, Chellick forced himself to ask: “Well? Who then?”

“Hmm? Oh. Celsus. They have a bet going, or so he told me. Was pretty sure he’d win. Perhaps that’s the stake? A night of steamy hot passion for whomever has the better squad.”

“Fuck you!” Chellick said with narrow eyes.

“Don’t blame me for this. I’m not the one who told her she deserved to be punched in the face.”

“One small cut for almost sending someone to the morgue is hardly fair.”

“Whatever,” Emerus said, tossing another piece of food in his mouth. “You didn’t want it, and now he’s got it.”

“He doesn’t have her!” Chellick shouted and with a backhand swipe threw his food tray into the wall, spraying sauce everywhere.

“It can’t be like that! She’s not like that!” he said, pointing a shaking talon at Emerus. A hush swept over the mess hall, and Chellick looked around at all the wide eyed faces.

“Excuse me,” he murmured and hurriedly walked out.

Emerus shook his head. “Making complete sense there, Decian,” he said to himself and continued to eat his dinner.

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **September 07** **th** **–** **Library** **–** **20:03** **PM**

“I’ve tried that,” Celsus snapped at her, “but the damn human still misses half her shots.”

Shepard rubbed her eyes and tried to explain again. “Celsus, you’re a big scary turian to her, and hovering over her all the time is only going to make it worse. You’ve shown her how to shoot, now she needs to practice without you coming down on her like the wrath of the gods after every shot. Just give her the orders and go correct someone else. Let her have time for a few warm up shots, then go back and review any mistakes.”

The library was empty except the two of them. Even the librarian had left for the night. Her lessons with Vyrnnus had been postponed due to some pressing off world business of his, and Shepard usually used that time to catch up on her biotics, either training on the bio-course or reading up on theory. Her entire body was covered in scars and healing wounds from their training. She had concealed most of it with long sleeves, but a few days rest to let the larger gashes close properly was a welcome change. The same could be said for Celsus’ company, and his offerings of chow. With all the biotics training, healing and missed meal times, she was starting to loose weight.

The young turian grumbled, but deliberated on her words. Reaching across the table, she snatched a ration bar and took a bite.

“The commander is not here right now, so why aren’t you in the mess hall for a warm meal?” Celsus asked.

“Needed to catch up on some work,” she said, hoping he’d drop the subject. He didn’t.

“Don’t tell me you’re avoiding our friends? Arista has been asking for you.”

“I just.. I’ve found a routine that works for me. Don’t want to break it now.”

“Is that all? Nothing else?” he said with a skeptical look.

“Well, no,” she admitted. “I’m avoiding that Vakarian boy. I’m trying, but he just rubs me the wrong way.”

Celsus chuffed. “How about a turian that rubs you the right way?”

The last piece of the ration bar en route to her mouth froze. The look on his face was of honest interest, nothing sleazy at all, but it left her unsettled all the same.

“Don’t have that,” she said and swallowed the last piece of the bar.

“Not what I heard,” he smiled. “In fact, I’ve heard precious little else from a certain turian.”

“Funny how rumors get around,” she said flatly. “I’ve heard the precise opposite. Straight from the horse’s mouth, as it were.”

“Stupid horse,” he shrugged. “It’ll come around.”

“Do you even know what a horse is?”

“Some daft earth animal, not knowing what’s good for it,” he said airily.

That made her laugh. “Thank you, Celsus. For the food, and for coming to talk to me.”

“No problem. I’m just here to pick your brain for good ideas, and leave you in the dust at firex.”

She tossed the wrapper at him. “Fat chance. Prepare to pay the superior alien, turian.”

“Hah! You know, there’s little chance of our teams actually meeting one another in the exam. Random draw, remember?” he said.

“Thank your spirits then. Squad 4 is invincible! I got 3 great hand to hand combatants, at least two crack shots and a pretty good overall team ready to kick ass, and take names.” Shepard threw her arms up in a victory pose, carefully holding on to her sleeves.

Celsus merely raised a single brow plate and crossed his arms. “And how are we feeling today, patient Shepard? Any long lasting symptoms from your last fight with Vyrnnus?” he replied dryly.

Shepard grinned maniacally. Vyrnnus was far away, and so were the horror of his lessons.

“I feel fantastic knowing that I’ll be robbing the great Celsus Corinthus of his only currency to buy Fornax,” she grinned.

“I’ll just borrow yours,” he flared back. “I bet you still have those pages.”

Her eyes narrowed and she said on a mock strict voice: “So you _were_ in on it. On my shit list now, Corinthus.”

“Nah, you adore me, I bring you gifts,” he laughed and pushed the last of the ration bars across the table. Her laughter joined his.

“All right then. You’re almost off the hook. Next time I’ll plaster your room.” She winked at him. “With the Krogasm edition!”

Celsus almost choked on his tongue.

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **September** **18** **th** **–** **Infirmary** **–** **16:36**

The small ripping sound when doctor Publius slowly tore the bandage off his wound made Garrus’ hide shiver, and he looked down on his loose lower rib plate with a pained expression.

“Still not healed,” Publius said with furrowed brow plates. “Might need to confine you to bed rest if the plate doesn’t reattach soon. You should not participate in firex. It could do more harm than good.”

“No! I’ll be fine,” Garrus said hastily, “it’s mostly basic stuff like target shooting and theory. That’s not so bad.”

“True, but then there is the obstacle course and the hand to hand tournament. Don’t think I don’t know the curriculum, Vakarian,” Publius said, taking out a new bandage from the cupboard.

“It’s just one day, then I can take it easy,” Garrus tried.

“Sure, because then secex is just four weeks and two days away, no training required for that,” Publius said sarcastically.

“Please! I can’t fail on the first exam. Not after.. her.” He trailed off.

Garrus was aware he was being observed, and made light of the singeing pain in his side plate.

The doctor twitched his mandibles. “Is Shepard giving you a hard time?”

“Not too much.. Not much more than the others get, anyway. She just has this look on her face, like she wants to box me up and send me with a one way ticket to Invictus.”

Publius sighed. “That is to be expected, given your family history. I hoped Shepard would be the one to break the mold, but alas.. Some things are ingrained too deep.”

“I get that her father died during the failed invasion of earth, and that my father somehow caused it, but they were soldiers, right? Soldiers die,” Garrus said. “No reason for the Shepards to stalk my family.”

Publius blinked a few times. “That’s what Executor Vakarian told you?”

“He doesn’t talk about it much. Only when he’s had a drink.”

“I see. It’s not my place to say more. Ask your father one day before he’s had that drink.”

“Doctor?” Garrus wanted to hear more, but Publius gave a short mandible flick. Conversation over.

“Hold your arms out. I need to apply some medigel before the bandage.” The doctor checked the cupboard again and frowned. “Hmm.. My store is running low, I must order more. Vakarian, I urge you to reconsider participating in the exam. One false step and you’ll undo weeks of my work here.”

“I understand. I’ll be careful,” Garrus said and held his hands over his head.

Publius slathered gel on and taped the plate, before replacing the wrappings. Stepping back to admire his own work, he nodded to Garrus. “We’re just about finished. Any pain or feeling of discomfort, you come see me. Tell Shepard I told you if she objects.”

“Yes, doctor,” Garrus replied dutifully, they both knew he would not return of his own free will unless he received a new grievous injury.

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **September** **20** **th** **–** **First Examination**

The day had been a disaster, despite that Shepard's team had gotten off to a pretty great start. Just like she’d predicted, her team’s two best shooters, Garrus and Aius had aced every test, pulling up the lower score of Castor, whom had improved tremendously in the last month, but still had a tendency to choke when the pressure was on. The last four had high average scores, and they came in first. When the ranking was announced, Shepard found herself to be oddly proud of the motley crew assigned to her. That feeling was not to last all day. Nirea and Garrus were tech savants, gaining them another first in the ‘hack and disable’ obstacle course. Aius and Strabo had gotten into an argument on the ‘breach and enter’ proficiency test, each demeaning to go first into the staged crashed shuttle, but a nudge from Nirea made them cast a glance at their squad leader among the judges, whom literally glowed in frustration, and resolved their differences very quickly. That event had been timed, and they were tied for first with Celsus’ team. Shepard started to hope the last event would land them into first place. There were small margins separating the top squads, and when the wins stood equally, they took into consideration individual time and levels of advanced techniques. Among her team she had the three experts she’d bragged about to Celsus, Mevia being the breakout surprise.

The female turian proved to be surprisingly vicious, and in her bout she broke her human opponents arm when she threw him to the ground. Afterwards she hovered over the poor boy trying to apologize, until Shepard pulled her away and told her leave him to the medics. Mevia continued to fret and peek over Shepard’s shoulder to see what the medics did to the guy, and it occurred to Shepard that breaks were much worse for turians than for humans. The air sacs in their bones could lead to suffocation if they broke enough if them, and she quietly told Mevia that the human recruit would not suffer that fate. Mevia was still distraught, but calmed down enough to leave the recruit alone and follow the remaining matches. Shepard was still feeling rather optimistic about the day at this point. It would not last. Aius had won his bout easily, so had Argyle, but after that it was a steep downhill plunge. They weren’t matches at all, they were beat-downs.

Castor got tossed all over the field by a gigantic turian whom had hit his last growth spurt early. Nirea showed some technique but lacked the strength to follow through. Strabo was no technique and all power, and got headlocked by a smaller turian female to the jeers of both his own team and the opponent’s. The worst was for last. Garrus was obliterated by his opponent in a matter of seconds. One leg swipe and he was on his stomach pinned down by a turian named Stasius, of Chellick’s squad. Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose in defeat. Chellick himself might not gloat too hard about this, seeing as he hardly spoke to her at all, but Vyrnnus would blame Garrus' failure on her, and he’d be right. It was painfully obvious that she’d not put enough effort into close-quarter combat practice, but there was simply not enough hours in the day. Not that any of that mattered to Vyrnnus. Her own personal tormentor would be on her like a vulture on dead meat.

She tallied the result in her head. Castor and Strabo she could work with. Nirea would need a few tweaks and a follow up workout program in the weight room. The last turian on her team appeared to be an utterly talentless hack in hand to hand, and she had no idea what to do about that. Four weeks of training, and he showed zero aptitude for it. And his abysmal showing reflected badly on her. She awaited the results with trepidation. They counted up points, and while it was possible for more than one team to be in tier one, they only announced the top five tiers. She wasn’t really surprised when Emerus’ squad was announced tier one. Two other teams she did not know in tier two, Chellick in tier three with four other squads and she and Celsus in tier 4 with some other dregs. The announces continued, but her attention was needed elsewhere. Less than a minute after the annunciation of her squad, came the silent buzz on her arm. Vyrnnus required her presence.

 

* * *

 

His office was locked when she arrived, and she leaned against the metal wall while she waited.

The commander himself appeared 10 minutes later, not from his office but ascending the stairs from below. When he saw her already there, he gave a satisfied smile. “You’ve learned not to keep your betters waiting. Good.”

She made no reply, knowing that it would be fruitless. Vyrnnus opened his office and entered, waving her to follow.

“So, the first month is over. And your team didn’t do too well, I’m informed.”

“Teething problems,” she said with some trepidation. “We’ll do better next month.”

Fourth tier out of 20 possible was bad? Really? She wondered what he expected so soon.

“Better is nowhere near good enough, Shepard!” Vyrnnus glared at her through narrow eyes.

He fished out a data pad from his coat and studied it. “And look at these results. Poor Vakarian nearly ending in hospital. Again.” He gave a dark chuckle. “Do you remember the terms, Shepard?”

She shuddered. “I do, sir. And I will fulfill them, sir.”

“Don't sir me and think that' will get you out of trouble, you little twerp. Conatix pays me to teach you to win, not to make excuses. There is no one to help you out there, you must face this trial alone, as everything in life. I pray to no spirits but myself, and you will learn the same. I will not accept weakness from you, Shepard. If you fail, I will break you in more ways than one.”

When he saw the look on her face, he laughed. “Oh, you think any and all turians believe in the spirits-crap? What a charming racist you are.” Her face flushed red, and he enjoyed her discomfort a little too long.

“But enough of that. Your little protegee is doing quite badly in hand to hand. Perhaps you don’t have not the stomach for training recruits full time, and need a little extra incentive. Until you manage to make Vakarian fighting fit, I will add an extra hour to our little training sessions. No biotics, just regular hand to hand. Maybe that will inspire some zeal in your duties.”

Shepard felt a cold dread and wanted sag to her knees to scream out loud. Only by the knowledge that a show weakness on her part would be punished even worse, did she remain composed.

“Of course, _Sir_.”

Vyrnnus ignored this and leaned heavy on his desk with a satisfied smirk.

“Good. We start tonight.”

“Yessir,” Shepard said compliantly, saluted and dragged her feet out the door. At this moment she was tired, she was hungry, and most of all, she was pissed at the turian who’d landed her in this mess.

_Garrus Vakarian!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very Shepard-centric this time, but next time there will be more about Garrus and how he experiences his first months at Jump Zero. The first didn't go too well, perhaps the next will fare better? (moahahaha!)
> 
> If you see any mistakes, let me know.


	16. Revelation and redemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emerus discovers the truth, and Garrus gets acquainted with Shepard.

**217** **4** **CE –** **September** **24** **th** **–** **Mess Hall** **–** **1** **9** **:36** **PM**

Four days had passed since firex, and Garrus was still walking on eggshells around Shepard. Ever since their first disastrous meeting, she’d spoke to him as little as possible, but he had grown to fear her disapproving frown even more than that of his father. Whenever he stole a glance at her when he knew he was being observed, she had a testy expression on her face. The cut in her lip that healed unevenly didn’t help either. It looked like she wore a perennial sneer that alarmed everyone on the squad. They never saw her after classes since she disappeared for her own lessons, and therefore they knew next to nothing about her. Only the station scuttlebutt yielded a few clues, and even those were disturbing.

“No, it’s true,” Strabo whispered to Aius, “I asked squad leader Victus myself. She was trained by krogans.”

“That can’t be true, just some claptrap he said to frighten you.” Nirea looked at Strabo with pity.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Aius grinned, “she certainly has the manners of one.”

Garrus didn’t participate in the conversation. He kept wiggling on his seat to check if the bandages were in place. The last thing he wanted was another trip to the doctor so soon after the exam, but the harsh training regime made recovery slow. For some reason Shepard had avoided hand to hand training since firex, and restricted their training to the obstacle course, shooting and weight training. During the latter, she kept a special eye on Nirea, and the young female had redoubled her efforts, earning little less than a small nod of approval. What he wouldn’t give for that. He’d been soundly ignored for four days, and that was more disconcerting than being yelled at. Garrus had spent the last month trying to perform his duties flawlessly like a good turian, but the more he tried, the more annoyed she seemed to become. He was at his wit’s end, with no sign of appeasement.

“Vakarian, are you all right?” came Castor’s voice. You keep jumping around. Might want to take that trip to Publius after all.”

“No. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Mevia snapped. “You’re injured, and your performance pulls this entire team down.”

“Whohey! Big words for someone that broke someone else’s arm not five days ago.” Strabo crossed his arms and gave Mevia a stern look.

“I know that, and that recruit is now in the infirmary where he should be. Not walking around trying to impress people.”

“I’m not trying to impress people,” Garrus said, discreetly patting his injured plate.

“No?” Mevia’s voice was razor sharp. “Then you do you keep fondling your ribcage? Trying to waft pheromones in my direction?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Garrus snorted. “You might break my arm as well.”

“She’s right,” Castor added a little more softly, “you don’t need to push so hard.”

“Tell that to Shepard.”

“Tell her yourself,” Castor said and nodded in the direction of the entrance.

Garrus jerked his head up to see. It was indeed Shepard, and she appeared to be sweeping the room for someone in particular. When her eyes landed on their table, she headed straight for them. None of the others had remarked on it, but Garrus saw she was still walking with a small limp. The limping disappeared and reappeared with regular intervals, but he would never dare to ask what caused it. Perhaps it was normal human frailty.

“Squad 4. Glad to find most of you here. Where’s Argyle?” she said. Short and to the point, no small talk, as always.

They glanced at each other. Was he in trouble?

“We, uh, we think he’s in the barracks, trying to chat up someone from squad 9.”

That made her flash a rare short smile.

“I see. One of you will relay the message then. Change of plans. Tomorrow we’re starting the morning with hand to hand, not the obstacle course. Meet at the sand pit. I’ve booked three hours.”

“Yes, Shepard,” they chorused.

She gave them a brief nod and walked out. Garrus noted she cast a longing glance at the hot meal counter as she left, but otherwise stared straight ahead. Humans were strange.

“Well, that’s it then.” Aius gave a melodramatic huff. “It’s time. We’re all going to die.”

“Not all of us. Just one.” Strabo flicked his mandible in Garrus’ direction.

“Oh, haha. Thanks.”

“You know what the humans say, don’t you? If you first don’t succeed, try and try again.” Aius flared his mandibles wide, showing all his teeth. “And she’s only tried once.”

“Lick a dead batarian’s ass, Aius!” Garrus murmured to the laughter of his fellow squad members.

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **September** **2** **5 th** **–** **Sand pit** **–** **09:48** **AM  
**

Garrus felt himself lift from the ground and swerve in the air until he hit the sand on her other side with a loud thud. A stifled _ooofh_ escaped him, before he rolled off his back and rose to his feet. Shepard’s gray eyes was on him, the familiar disapproving frown all over her face.

“Vakarian, that is the third time today. Why do you insist on repeating the same idiocy over and over?”

He looked away. “Thought I had an opening.”

“By charging me from several meters away? Brute strength is helpful, but easily countered if applied without thought. And I have seen precious little thinking from you so far.”

Garrus caught the sound of snorts that emanated from his teammates. That was most likely Aius, that bastard. The low hum from a commiseration subvocal was Castor, and the rest of them merely observed. Truth be told, he knew that Shepard right, but several of the counters required moves that pulled on the damaged plate. In spite of that, he'd be damned before he let Shepard perceive a physical weakness in him. The krogan-lady would most likely pull him out of training, adding insult to injury. She shook her head and motioned him off the pitch, calling for Castor and Strabo to enter. She tossed a datapad to Nirea and told her to keep score. Aius and Argyle were already shouting advice to the combatants. Mivea merely looked bored. She was already ahead of the pack, and only Aius, Argyle or Shepard offered any competition.

Garrus knew he was in for another lecture and mentally braced himself. Shepard walked up to him and sat down on the bleachers. Up close when he wasn’t worried about getting his arms torn off, Garrus discerned that she looked tired, gaunt and had some swelling in her face. The double work load of squad training and biotics might be catching up with her, he reflected. Maybe she’d drop dead soon. He could only hope. Still, she made time to be insufferable towards him. He threw his fight gloves away and glared at her.

“Vakarian, I’ve spent 40 minutes trying to get some techniques to stick in that thick skull of yours, and if possible, you’ve gotten worse! No improvement whatsoever, no matter how many rounds we go. What’s your fucking problem?”

“Nothing!” His voice betrayed a slight apprehension, and Shepard latched onto it like a tick.

“ _Nothing_! Is the reason even a slight breeze will topple you over. _Nothing_! Is the reason you will come last of all fucking recruits on this station in H2H-training. You're practically nothingness personified.” Her words inflamed him with the kind of irrational rage he’d never felt against another turian, not even Timeus Fedorian. When he saw the sneer on her lip curl up, his last remnants of self control broke. Letting out a loud snarl, he swung wide at her. Shepard sprang up from her seat and caught the arm easily, then grabbed him by the throat. She heard the rest of the team click their mandibles in shock behind her. A turian’s throat was a very vulnerable area, and they were aghast she would use it against them. Garrus tried to strike at her with his free arm, his talons scratching her forearm, but it was like she didn’t feel it.

“That kind of impulsiveness will get you killed, Vakarian.” Her hand glowed blue and she lifted him off the ground. Garrus squirmed in her grasp, gasping for air and pawing at the hand that held him up. She shifted her gaze to is midriff, and immediately dropped the biotic hold. He fell down, but landed on his feet.

“Class dismissed! Get out of here! Not you, Vakarian!” Shepard’s gaze nailed Garrus to the steps. He stopped midstep and rubbed his sore neck. Aius and the others looked apprehensive. “We still have 25 minutes left,” Argyle protested.

“Did I stutter? Leave! Now!”

The squad almost broke into a run as they left.

Shepard stepped into Garrus’ personal space and yanked his tunic up. The bandaged plate had began to bleed again, and the blue stain had seeped through the gauze.

“How long have you been hiding that?” The tone of her voice was deceptively calm, with only a hint of accusation.

“You know when I got this, Shepard. The day we met, remember?”

To his surprise that seemed to take some of the venom out of her. The color of her face took on an unfamiliar red tinge. Sinking back down on the bleachers, she started to rub her temples with two fingers.

“And you thought it would be a good idea to hide this from me?” This time she could not hide the weariness he’d seen earlier.

“I knew you would pull me out of training, Shepard. If I fall to far behind, I'll fail.”

She gave a mirthless chuckle. “You and me both, turian.”

Garrus flicked a mandible in contempt. Right. She'd be fine if he flunked out of the program entirely, and probably happier for it.

He felt her study his expression, and clamped his mandibles close to his jaw.

“Clearly, this isn't working for either of us,” she said slowly. “Perhaps a more theoretical approach until that plate is fastened.”

The threat of being placed on the sidelines made Garrus skip from one leg to the other.

“Shepard, please, don't cut me from the squad. I'll be ready to fight in the next test, you'll see.” The shrill anxious tone in his subvocals was obvious even to her human ears.

“I highly doubt that, Vakarian. But we'll work on technique until then and see.” She beckoned him to follow her back onto the field.

“All right, we will do everything in slow motion. Every block, strike, counter and throw. I still think it would be better if you sat out all training for a few weeks..-” Garrus trilled angrily at her, “but that thick-headed turian pride would just make you beg your squad mates to train you in secret, injuring you further. This week is breach and enter, mainly shooting and hacking. That won’t stress your wound too bad. You and I will still meet here after every class until secex to work on your combat skills. I’m sacrificing hours of my own classes for this, so you better godsdamn appreciate this.”

Garrus closed his eyes. Spirits save him, three weeks of private classes with Shepard. He would be dead before the test for sure.

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **October 1** **st** **–** **Library** **–** **20:02** **PM**

“Come on, just fess up. What happened to your team?” Shepard looked expectantly at Celsus.

“It’s not important.”

“I won’t give up, you know. Might even ask get desperate enough to ask the commander for the results,” she pressed.

“Fine! I hovered! Just like you warned me about, and they hit everything but the targets and the judges, okay?”

If a turian could pout, Celsus Corinthus would have been the first. Not even ten wild Vyrnnuses could have stopped her from grinning, but at least he didn’t sulk for long.

“At least you didn’t beat me.”

“True, but next time I will. Better keep saving those tokens, I’m buying the entire machine in three weeks.”

“As if. Speaking of truths, I hear you’re giving Vakarian private training after classes. Any truth to that?”

Shepard sighed. “It is. Can’t see any way around it, he’s been too much on the shooting range and not enough sparring. Although, I’m told he’s good at clawball, whatever that is.”

“It’s the sport of primarchs, Shepard.” Celsus said reproachfully. “Honestly, humans are too ignorant for their own good.”

“Pffh..” She waved him off with a casual flick of the hand. “If it’s not about sweat and a decent ground pound I’m not interested.”

“Ground pound?”

“Basically sitting atop your opponent and punching him in the face.”

“Ah, you mean foreplay,” Celsus said in a smug voice.

“Celsus Corinthus, getting down and dirty with the aliens,” she grinned.

“Am I interrupting something?”The dulcet tones of Emerus appeared behind a shelf, and shortly thereafter, the imposing figure of the turian himself. Shepard gave him a puzzled smile, but Celsus perked his fringe as if he was listening to something. Some form of communication transpired between the two turians, too low for Shepard to hear, but she saw their body language change. She caught the occasional resonance change, but this was much lower and higher than she was able to pick up. Perhaps turians could hear bats too, or maybe an enhanced ecolocation device could disrupt turian communication. Something to think about, she thought and smiled absentmindedly, while the two of them continued to ‘talk’. It took a while before she became aware that both turians stared at her.

 

“What are you smiling about?” Emerus looked suspicions.

“Just inventing something.”

“Well, I’ll be off. See you later, Shepard.” Celsus gave her a quick nod and hurried out.

“Inventing what?” Emerus said and sat down.

“Never mind that, what did you say to him to make him leave? We were working, well, mostly working.”

“I’m sure,” Emerus said dryly. “We’ve not spoken since,” he coughed, “since we came aboard. How are you, Shepard?”

“I’m, ..you know. I’m fine. A little overworked, but that’s the way the clawball bounces.”

“You’re hiding something from me,” he said matter-of-factly.

Shepard was not a good poker player just for her cheating skills. She could lie as well. “We all hide some things. It’s no big deal.”

She knew she sounded sincere, and only her continued presence on the station belied her words.

“Then why do you smell like medigel whenever I see you?”

“Slipped from the pull up-bar, ankle is slow to heal when I need to do double shifts.”

A small flick of the eye was her only tell, but she knew it had been there. Turian sense of smell. Dammit.

“And you’ve grown thinner. Not a good thing for biotics,” he continued.

“I’m okay, Emerus. Everything is fine.”

“Uh-huh. Well, if everything is just fine, guess you won’t be needing this.”

Emerus pulled out a small container of today’s slushy levo dinner. It was still warm, and it smelled like heaven.

“I had to steal this. You know how strict the cook is about taking anything but dry food out of the mess?”

“Emerus...” Her stomach gave a revealing growl.

He flashed a long row of razor sharp teeth. “All you have to do is to tell me what you’ve been up to this last month, and it’s aaaall yours.”

The innocent smile she gave him in return could have walked her into a nunnery. “You win, Emerus. Just let me see what it is first.”

The container opened easily enough, and he held it out in front of him with an open palm, but to far away for her to snatch it from him. That is, if she’d been a regular recruit. The container glowed blue, slammed the lid and flew out of his talons and into her waiting hands.

“Hey! That’s not fair!” he yelled and belted after her, but Shepard had already disappeared between the shelves. She zigzagged through the datapad-section on urban warfare and hunkered down by the section of the first-contact war and poured the container unceremoniously into her mouth. That would teach Emerus not to flaunt his goodies in front of her.

“Shepard, we had a deal,” he rumbled behind her.

“I just negotiated a better deal for myself. You can have the box back, I’m not greedy.”

The sound that came from him was a mix between a snort and a snarl, and he playfully grabbed her and shoved her against the wall, pinning her arms above her.

“I want what I came for,” he said in her ear.

“And that was?” she replied laughing, but Emerus suddenly tensed. She followed his eyes. They were fixed on her arm where the shirt sleeve had fallen down. He jerked her arm down and pulled the sleeve further up.

“What’s this?” he said in a voice that flanged dangerously low.

“It’s nothing.”

His talons locked around her wrist, refusing to let go. “Shepard, who did this? Was it Decian?”

“Chellick? No! He’d never do that, he’s not…” she hesitated, “like me.”

Emerus gave her a hard stare and pulled up her other sleeve. His face contorted into a scowl, and then quickly, before she could protest, pulled at the neck line and peeked down into her shirt.

“Hey! That’s rude, knock it off.” She pushed him away, looking scandalized.

“You’re covered in what’s unmistakably talon slashes and _I’M_ the rude one? You better damn well speak, Shepard, or I’m reporting this to Corinthus.”

Emerus crossed his arms, and Shepard sighed. The game was up, time to reign in the white knight.

“Corinthus knows.”

“Knows?! That’s impossible. He’d never allow this.”

“Not his call, not his area. I think he’d rather have me carted off the station, but Vyrnnus made a deal with the board. If I submit to doing double duty as a third year biotic and squad leader for a team, I can stay. Shows repentance, or whatnot.”

She have a short hard laugh. “But you know Vyrnnus. There was more small print in that deal than a standard volus contract.”

“What did it say?”

“The long and short of it? Two conditions, I obey and train with Vyrnnus without objections, and if the squad fails I fail. Vyrnnus’ methods are a bit hard on human skin.”

“And putting Vakarian in your team?”

“Vyrnnus little joke to force me to play nice.”

Emerus considered her words for a moment.

“Shepard, I have to ask.. Do you regret it? What you did to Vakarian?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “I don’t like the guy, and I lost control and almost killed him. Worst decision of my life. If I could undo that day, I would.”

Emerus relaxed a bit. “Well, that’s a relief. You not wanting to murder all turians, I mean.”

“Very droll, Emerus. Look, you can’t tell anyone about this.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not part of the deal I made. If the board or the captain finds out about this, Vyrnnus will find a reason to send me off Gagarin.”

“What about our friends?”

“No! Especially not them. You came by this by accident and it will stay between us. If you blab, I’ll find you. I know where you sleep.”

That made him flare his mandibles in a smile. “Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”

“Really? I’m ecstatic.” She flashed him a big smile, then frowned. “Don’t ruin this for me, Emerus. I can deal with one year like this. It’s not like I don’t deserve it,” she said, pulling down the sleeves.

“That sounds rehearsed.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true.”

The empty container had fallen under a table, and she bent down to pick it up.

“Thanks for dinner. It will help later.”

“Later when?”

She looked at her omni-tool. It was five to nine.

“When I do offensive biotics with the commander.”

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **October** **05** **th** **–** **Sand pit** **–** **17:45** **PM**

For the last eleven days Garrus Vakarian’s day had consisted of little else other than sleeping, eating and training. Every day when the rest of the squad was let go, he had to stay back with Shepard to go over and over every move and stance they’d learned so far. He felt like he had sand in his training suit, sand in his fringe, sand between the groin plates and according to her, sand in his head. Besides that she slung quite a few hurtful remarks about his prowess in the ring, the training itself was remarkably gentle. They went slow, she never hit him in the hurt plate, didn’t make him perform moves that would worsen his injury, and she let him practice some rather brutal takedowns and holds on herself. Slowly but surely, he was gaining more confidence as a fighter, and with that, the occasional faint praise. He hated himself for how proud he felt on those occasions, and how hungry he was for her approval.

“All right, Vakarian. You’ve done reasonably well today. One more and I’ll let you go.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Try a hip throw. Your good hip, mind you. And I will be trying to foil you, so keep your guard up.”

“I’m on it.”

He circled around her slowly, then grabbed her by the suit and flipped her over his hip. Instead of fighting him on this, she followed his momentum into the throw, landed on her feet and swept his legs from under him. As he fell, she grabbed hold of his arms and slowed his fall, followed his descent and landed straddled on top of him.

“Told you I’d try a reversal.” She flashed him a rare smile.

It had been a long time since he’d been this close with a female, not to mention one that dominated him so completely. Garrus felt a stirring behind his groin plates, and realized he was a young stressed turian with a female alien wriggling on his lap. ‘ _Not with her,’_ his mind rebelled. _‘Not ever.’_

“If that was the last one, could you get off now?” he said tersely, trying to push her away.

Shepard quickly got up and looked at him with something akin to worry.

“Did you pull the plate? I can check if you want.”

“No! I’m good.”

“Now why don’t I believe that. I changed my mind, I’ll check as I want. Strip!”

“What? No!” His hands flew subconsciously to his suit front.

“Pull your shirt up, Vakarian. If you’re bleeding, I’ll carry you over to Publius.”

The objection stuck in his throat. Challenging her right now was playing with fire. It was just the shirt, right? Not like she asked him to pull his pants down. Which he would never do in front of her.

“There! Happy?” he said and opened the suit up to reveal a snug-fitted bandage. “No blood. Are we done?”

“We’re done. I’ve seen much improvement these last days. Not bad.”

Shepard picked up her gear and headed for the library, leaving Garrus in the pit utterly dazed and confused.

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **October** **10** **th** **–** **Library – 20:09 PM**

Three turians walked into a library, and one of them was very upset. Chellick had been 'persuaded’ to come with Emerus and Arista, but he regretted it already. For some reason, a week ago Emerus had begun a ceaseless campaign of not so subtle hints that he should talk to Shepard, which led to a no holds barred close-to-deathmatch in the sparring ring. Chellick lost, and had to tag along with the other two as they entered Shepard’s den, the library.

Shepard heard the door woosh open and closed, but was far too caught up in her studies to pay it any mind. In less than twenty minutes Vyrnnus expected her presence on the field, as he was incorporating the basic form of stasis into their training, and she hadn’t read all the theory yet. The extra training for Garrus took much of her focus. Not even when she heard approaching footsteps did she look up, not until it was too late.

“Hi Jane, it’s been a while.”

That voice. Not believing her ears, she glanced up. It was him. Since when did he call her Jane again?

“Can we go somewhere private and talk?” Chellick’s voice was low and cold, it stung in her chest and she recoiled from him like he was a polar opposite. Damn, wasn’t she over him already? She just found a routine she could work with. Chellick’s hostile presence would be an unwelcome distraction. Not to mention detrimental to her mental balance. It wasn’t like she needed another speech about her flawed character, she already got that on a daily basis. _Maybe you deserve it_ , a treacherous voice belonging to Vyrnnus said in the back of her brain. Shepard pinched her nose bridge.It was like having a guardian demon with her wherever she went. She already had the physical Vyrnnus to contend with later. The mere prospect of being berated by Chellick as well did not bear thinking about.

“Sorry, Chellick, I’m a bit short on time. Much to do.” She gathered up her charts and datapads, swept them abruptly into her bag and practically vanished out the door. Chellick was left looking stunned as he returned to his companions.

 

“I don’t understand humans.”

“No, they’re completely inscrutable. We heard your low subvocals all the way here, and even if she cannot, you weren’t exactly forthcoming.”

Chellick shrugged. “She didn’t need to run away.”

“No, because everything is so right with you two. No matter that Shepard is a high strung biotic under a lot of pressure lately, abandoned by her turian boyfriend for a mistake she’s atoning for every day, and said boyfriend thinks after a month he can just jump back in where he left off instead of easing into it? Moron. I’d run too.” Emerus glared daggers at Chellick.

“Easy, Emerus,” Arista said, laying a hand atop his.

“Atoning for? She got to be a squad leader, how is that any form of punishment?” Chellick said with a voice brimming with indignation.

“She is a _biotic_! That’s a setback for _her_! Their last year is temperance training, not boot,” Emerus barked.

“Hey hey, calm down, both of you. Emerus, he doesn’t know what you know.”

“Know what? Shepard's been whining about how terrible it is being squad leader? Well, boohoo.”

Arista grabbed Emerus before he could leap at Chellick. “Stop! Perhaps you’ll believe the evidence of your own eyes then. Shepard usually has biotic lessons until about eleven. Wait for her in the locker room.”

“What for?”

“Just fucking do it!” Emerus snarled. “Self-righteous oaf.” He got up and stormed out.

Arista gave Chellick and apologetic smile. “It’s probably hormones. I’ll talk to him,” she said and followed Emerus.

His friend’s anger disconcerted Chellick. What did Emerus know that he didn’t? And why had he told Arista and not himself? Just because they were involved, they kept secrets from him? Whatever. He’d go because they’d nag him otherwise, but in reality, he didn’t care. He really didn’t. Not anymore. Chellick kept assuring himself of hos indifference while he read the first datapad he pulled from the shelf, contemporary Hanar poetry, and he kept reading it until the time was quarter to eleven.

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **October** **10** **th** **–** **Locker Room** **–** **22:57** **PM**

In the hallway Chellick heard an uneven gait approach, and hid himself behind some shelving. Slowly pushing open the door, Shepard limped in, one hand clasping her ribs and the other wiping blood from her chin where it trickled onto her track suit. Her left eye was almost swelled shut. Chellick gasped. His eyes saw in the gloom where hers did not, and she did not turn the lights on as she removed her suit to get into the shower. He suspected the lights were off to serve as a warning if someone were to arrive, as the switch were on the outside wall. In the dimmed room he saw talon lacerations on her arms and legs, defensive wounds and slashes for when she’d been too slow. Some were open, others partially healed. The worst part was a large tree-shaped blackened contusion that covered her entire back. He knew of no combat technique that caused such damage. It had to be from biotics. There was a rustle of cloth as Shepard wrapped herself in a towel, hissing in pain as the soft material came into contact wit her skin. Her hand fumbled inside the locker and one single packet of medigel fell out. He saw her wince at the sight. It was nowhere near enough. Shepard painstakingly bent down to pick it up, swearing under her wheezing breath. She looked so alone and defenseless in that moment, Chellick felt it like a stab of pain in his chest and a keen threatened to force itself from his subvocals. This was wrong! That old turian was torturing his girlfr-… his friend, and he’d let it happen. He pushed her away. He told her she deserved it, and now she avoided _him_. Spirits, no..

A new purpose formed in his mind, and he stepped out of the shadows and walked towards her.

“Jane,” he trilled softly.

Her reaction was not the one he’d hoped for. Her one open eye darted around in the gloom until she saw who it was, but her face displayed no pleasure in seeing him. Instead she took several steps back.

“What the hell are you doing here, lurking in the dark! You some kind of perv?”

Definitely not the response he wanted. “Uh, no. I wanted to.. I had to..” the words formed in his head and slipped away just as fast. His indecision made Shepard impatient, and she leaned heavily against the wall.

“I’m not in the mood for games. Just yell what you were going to yell and leave.”

He swallowed. It was all or nothing.

“I’m sorry, Jane. For loosing all faith in you. For not staying by your side when you needed me the most. I.. I miss you. I miss us. Don’t really know where we go from here, just wanted to let you know where I stand.”

Shepard blinked several times, looking dumbfounded. When she spoke again, it was not the sound of the self assured troublemaker he was used to, but a fragile jilted lover.

“Please don’t do this, Chellick. I can’t let you back in again. I just need to survive this year and get out of here.”

“Please, say Decian.”

“No.”

“Please?” This time Chellick could not keep the keen out of his voice, and Shepard closed her eye and turned away.

“Decian, please..”

“Don’t shut me out. Don’t do to me what I did to you. You’re better than that,” he said, desperation evident in his face.

“I deserved this,” she whispered and her expression went blank. “Every part of it.”

His own words to her, taken more to heart than he believed they would be when he practically spat them in her face. Right now he regretted every word he said in anger, and from her defeated countenance he saw she regretted quite a few things as well. Had he helped Vyrnnus break her?

He tried one last time. “Jane, please listen to me. You don’t deserve all this. I was wrong. Please, just.. I want us to be friends again.” He stood back and waited.

 

Shepard refocused her good eye and the gloomy locker room swam back into view. Chellick was still there, apparently waiting for her to say something. She had a whole spiel ready to throw in his face about the whys and the whatnots, why he should leave and they’d be better off as strangers, but she was tired. Tired of games, tired of this place, being hurt, injured, sore, sleepless, and most of all, tired of being alone. Celsus and Emerus were great, but she missed having a close friend around. Her bleary gray eye met Chellick’s glowing green ones.

“I missed you too,” she said simply, and walked into the showers.

 The single shower stall she’d taken refuge in rained hot water on the open gashes and made the blood stream down her body and into the swirling drain on the floor. The stinging she felt from the water was manageable, and nothing compared to when she got the cuts. Behind her the stall door creaked, and Chellick got in hesitantly when she moved forward to make room for him. His double talons clicked on the tiles with every step. Shepard felt no discomfort being naked in front of him. Right now, in this place, in this moment, there was no sexual tension in the space between them, just to estranged lovers trying to reconnect as best they knew how. She turned around without haste, watching his alien features as they came into view. The sloping cowl that led water to pour from the jutting keelbone. The plates that glistened metallic from the spray of the shower head. The double-clicks from his talons. His long fringe. He was completely alien, but right now, he felt like safety. She leaned against him, placing her arms deliberately on his back plates and not his waist. He seemed unsure where to touch her without causing pain, and she whispered ‘waist, least bruising.’ Even her tormentor avoided that area to strike. Chellick hesitated but for a moment, then his talons gently seized around her.

The water continued to cascade around them as they stood embraced for an eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to reveal a little something about the story here, so look away if you don't want to know: SPOILER ALERT; No, there will be no love triangle on the station. Others have done that better before me, and I was inoculated against the three-way pining by Jean M. Auel in her book The Mammoth Hunters. God, did that thing drag on and on. (No offense to anyone whom likes that book.) As such, I fear an overarching need to stab myself in the eye with a pencil would come over me should I attempt that kind of storyline. That being said, I have another one-shot (maybe two) crack fic in the works, about one of the more known love triangles in the ME-universe, done with all the subtlety i feel the theme deserves. :) Not really sure when I'll finish it, since S&B takes so much of my time. 
> 
> As usual, any mistakes, let me know.


	17. Practical anathomy lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and Garrus see some results from their hard training, and Chellick is a little slow on the uptake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have promised and I have delayed, but it's finally here, the first NSFW chapter of the story. Prepare to get clinical and dirty, or if that's not your thing, when the clock strikes 17:55 PM, look away!

**217** **4** **CE –** **October** **20** **th** **–** **Second Examination**

The big day had arrived, and Shepard stood by the score board with cold sweat running down her spine. Her team was in the top five, and tier placement would again be settled in the hand to hand tournament. The one place where her team could fail miserably and bring the wrath of Vyrnnus down upon her again. Garrus had shown great improvement the last week, but his Achilles’ heel was still his side plate. One good wallop, and he’d be down for the counting. She’d drilled him again and again on keeping the guard up on his weak flank, just like she had Emerus when he was a first-year. Where Emerus had shown natural talent, Garrus needed relentless repetition, but he showed an innate tenacity for learning and put so much effort into it, Shepard was amazed. The squad had backed him when she’d hinted at him sitting out secex in lieu of his injury, they all supported him and wanted him to participate. Even Mevia, although her support was given with a few angry glares at Castor.

Garrus was a tough little bastard, she had to give him that. He simply would not stay down, and she felt a reluctant twinge of respect for his perseverance. It was an uncomfortable sensation, and she wished it would evaporate soon.

By some great conspiracy, Garrus drew Stasius as an opponent yet again. Vyrnnus himself had joined the proceedings, and she glanced in his direction up in the bleachers only to receive a devious smirk in return. Fuck. The wait for Vakarian’s turn was agonizing, and when the moment of truth finally arrived, Shepard was almost shaking with anticipation. Garrus stood up when they called his name, and she gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, to the great surprise of both of them.

“Just do like we trained, yes? Wait for him to open up, then grab and get him under you. And watch that flank!”

“Yes, Shepard.” He sounded confident, but she saw he was nervous.

“Vakarian, you’re fighting with a handicap here, I don’t expect anything else besides your best.”

“You don’t expect me to win, do you?” The hurt tone did not escape her.

“I expect you to realize your limitations, and do your utmost with what you have. Now go.”

She shooed him into the ring. The sad part was, he was right, she didn’t think he could win. Not in his condition.

Stasius clearly believed the same, as he tried the same leg sweep he’d done in their last fight. Garrus easily avoided it, grabbed Stasius’ extended leg and pulled him onto the mat. A desperate fight for the upper hand ensued, and Shepard shouted encouraging words every time Garrus got in a hit, and winced every time Stasius did. The boys rolled around and exchanged punches until the judge got tired and called a restart.

Garrus got up and shot a look at her, and she flashed him a big grin and gave him two thumbs up. He probably expected her to be upset with him, but for his condition, he did great.

“You think he can do it?” Aius asked, his eyes not leaving the ring.

“If he lands a lucky shot, yes. If he’s very good, he’ll force another draw.”

“You think he’ll lose?”

“I think he’s doing great for a guy whose plates are torn off. Thanks for informing me, by the way.”

Aius gave a nervous cough. “We figured you’d throw him off the team. We only meant to protect him.”

From me, Shepard thought but did not say aloud. “All right, but not again, you hear?”

“Yes, Shepard. Look, they’re starting again.”

Stasius was more careful this time, throwing a few testing jabs at Garrus to see if he’d follow up. Garrus didn’t fall for it, they’d discussed tactics before the game and she’d forbidden getting into a clinch with the other turian, leaving his ribs exposed for pummeling.

For Stasius, it must have looked like Garrus was afraid, because he started to rain blows against his guard. Once more, Garrus managed to get hold of Stasius, and wrestled him down again.

Aius and Shepard was now shouting at the top of their lungs in support. Neither Stasius or Garrus managed to get the upper hand, and after several minutes, the judge called for another restart. There was a groan coming from the spectators, but Shepard was almost ecstatic.

Strabo came up beside her. “You think they might call a draw?”

“If he does it one more time, yes, I think so. But Stasius will not be going for the draw, he needs to win now.”

“Come on Garrus, you can do it,” Strabo hissed, and Shepard felt the same way. Garrus could do it, if he played it smart.

Stasius was not interested in losing to the small silver turian, and he took his time this round, studying Garrus’ moves. It became obvious that he favored his right side, revealing injury to the left. Garrus saw this understanding dawn in Stasius’ face, as did Shepard.

“Careful now,” she murmured under her breath, “he just realized it.”

Like he could hear her from the ring, he shifted his stance to prevent a full assault to his flank.

Stasius flicked his mandibles expectantly. He had high hopes of finishing this fight soon. Garrus cocked his head, then shifted stance again, preparing to execute a front kick. Shepard’s head almost exploded. “What is he doing? That’s not the plan!”

“Garrus, no!” Nirea cried out behind them.

Stasius couldn’t believe his luck and charged ahead like a mad bull. Garrus was caught in the midriff and a yelp of pain escaped him, but he let himself follow the momentum of Stasius and fell backwards, simultaneously pulling the other turian flying over his head and down to the ground on the opposite side. Stasius landed with a thud, but Garrus wasn’t quick enough to follow up and pin him down, so again the two boys rolled around on the ground, swapping the occasional punch.

Shepard was awed. That was the move she’d done on him the day she discovered his injury, but they had never rehearsed it in training because of the agility it required. The judge blew a whistle, and the seasons first and hopefully only draw was announced. Garrus got up and twitched his mandibles in pain. He was slightly hunched over when he walked out of the ring, awaiting her verdict.

“I didn’t win, like you said:” His drooping fringe gave him a pathetic look.

“No, but you didn’t lose either. You did well, Vakarian, I’m very impressed. Now haul your ass over to the doctor, I want that looked at right away.”

Speechless, Garrus merely stared at her. Perhaps she shouldn’t be so stingy with praise when he did something right.

“Castor, you take him, you’re done with your bout.”

“Sure, Shepard.” Castor put his hand on Garrus shoulder and pushed him to move.

Shepard felt a strange pride in having trained Garrus well enough to stand his ground when wounded, but the feeling lasted only until the omni-tool on her wrist buzzed.

_A draw is not a win, Shepard._ _Not good enough._

It said nothing else. At least it wasn’t a summons. She knew it was only a short reprieve, and it was imperative that in the meantime Garrus healed up so she could train him at full speed. Perhaps it would not be the herculean task she first imagined.

 

Squad 4 came in tier two with Chellick, another win for Emerus in first and Celsus third. Shepard tried to keep her gloating to a minimum when Celsus paid up their bet. It was proving to be difficult.

“You got lucky,” he said, handing over the tokens with reluctance.

“Hard work, Celsus. You should try it once.”

“Bah. I hoped Vakarian at least would fail, after that spectacular loss last time.”

“Hey, only I may mock my team, otherwise I might comment on your squads shooting prowess. Still lacking, by the way. Want me to send over Vakarian to give you a few pointers? I don’t know if you saw the score board, top marks in all gun related events for the little sprout.”

“Thank you, I got it. You’re a bad winner.”

“I know. Character flaw. You, on the other hand, are a gracious loser.” She winked at him.

Celsus put down the datapad he was studying and leaned back on the chair.

"I figured you’d be training with Vyrnnus today? What gives?”

“It’s canceled. He’s been busy lately, and I even got a message saying the extra training hour he set down after firex was annulled. Gives me some time to breathe before his next grand scheme.”

“You’re free for the evening?”

“I still have biotics class to do.”

“Well, yeah, but you could do that after dinner? If you’re not seeing Vyrnnus, you can make time for hanging with us in the mess hall. If Decian gives you any crap, I’ll personally..,” he thought about it for a moment, “yank his mandible for you, how’s that?”

Ten days had passed since their cautions reconciliation in the shower, and they had yet to reveal it to their friends. Celsus hadn’t noticed Chellick sneaking out of the library shortly after he arrived, and Shepard wasn’t keen to let on. Having Chellick back as moral support, as food thief extraordinaire and an unstinting kisser was wonderful, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to share that with the rest of their friends. On the other hand, Celsus and the others were pushing for this out of concern for both of them, so a small concession might be in order.

“Okay. I guess I can spare one hour.”

 

* * *

 

It was Arista who spotted them first. She nudged Emerus discreetly in his side and nodded in their direction. Emerus was just as surprised as Arista, and tried to wave Celsus off before they could sit at their table. Chellick sat with his back to the door, and wasn’t aware until Shepard dropped her tray down next to him as if nothing was amiss, and sat down while ignoring him. Emerus, Arista and Celsus waited for an outburst of anger, rage, hysterical whining, anything really, but Chellick merely tensed for a moment, then began eating his dinner again. The trio felt like they could breathe freely. Crisis averted for now.

“Hello Arista, long time no see. How’s that secret project of yours doing?” Shepard asked. She figured she might as well jump instead of crawl back into the fray.

“Hi, Shepard. I, uh.. It’s good. Can’t say any more than that.” Arista tried to follow up as best she could to avoid any awkward silences.

“No problem. I won’t snoop.”

“Heh, then you’re more polite than Emerus here. He’s always trying to wheedle it out of me.”

“Come on now ladies,” Emerus protested, “less than a minute before you gang up on little old me? Not fair.”

They continued the light banter for a while, but Chellick was quiet. He sat staring into his tray, refusing to say a word. Their friends mistook his reluctance for disapproval, but Chellick and her was in agreement of taking things slow for a while, and not let on. They kept glaring at Chellick, but he held steadfast to their deal. Shepard felt a stab of sympathy for him, and decided to make things worse for the poor sod. She reached down under the table and stroked at the curved spot between his leg and where the spur began. A short chirrup escaped his mouth plates and his mandibles fluttered wildly before he clamped them to his face.

“What the,” Arista glared at him. “I’ll thank you not to use that kind of language at the dinner table.

“That was rude, Decian,” Celsus added in support of Arista. “Behave like a proper turian, at least for a while.”

Only Emerus widened his eyes as a glimmer of understanding shone in them, and placed blame where it should be placed.

“Shepard, stop fondling your little sex-toy at meal time, if you please. Some of us have standards.”

“Really? Since when?” she asked with a glib smile.

At last Chellick couldn’t keep a straight face any longer, and chuffed a laugh.

“You’re.. since when?” Arista lowered her voice.

“Since I had an epiphany in the library,” Chellick said quickly.

Arista and Emerus began laughing.

“Uh, hello, I’m not in on this joke,” Celsus complained.

“Me neither,” said Shepard.

“Tell you some other time.” Chellick dared a small brush on her hand even here in public.

“Anything for you, dear,” she said smiling.

“Oh spirits, that didn’t take long. I liked it better when you were not speaking.” Celsus made retching noises to great amusement of his friends.

 

“Hey guys, are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Aius jerked his head in the direction of their squad leader’s table.

“Spirits, is that Shepard laughing? It must be a clone. Hurry, someone kill it,” Strabo said as loud as he dared.

“Shh, don’t land us in trouble.” Mivea was annoyed. “We’re almost in the top tier. With a little more work, our squad could be in the top next month, and I don’t need you screwing things up for me by antagonizing Shepard. We already have somebody for that.” She shot Garrus a dark look.

“”Hey, what did I do now? I didn’t lose, and even Shepard said I did well,” Garrus protested.

“Sure, you didn’t lose, but you didn’t win either,” Mivea said.

“Wait a minute, I say your shooting score, so don’t dare imply I don’t pull my weight on the team.” He raised his voice quite a bit, and they got several looks from the surrounding tables.

“Yeah? One decent exam and you think you’re even for the last? Typical high-tier asshole, at least your father’s name doesn’t win you any favors with Shepard.”

Garrus slammed his metal mug down with so much force the handle broke and the clang from the break sounded all round the mess hall.

“Don’t bring my family into this!” he shouted.

Mevia got up and prepared to fire off another insult, when a hand was placed on her shoulder from behind.

“Hey now, take it easy you two. No need to show group dissent in public.”

Their squad leader had stepped in, and she was being nice about it.

“I believe this sort of thing is usually settled in the ring, yeah? Until Vakarian is better, the pair of you will stick a pin in whatever this is, and fight it out later. Understood?”

The sight of a calm and relaxed Shepard with a friendly smile on her face scared the spirits out of them.

“Yeah, sure,” Garrus mumbled.

“Yes, sir,” Mivea said in a low voice.

“Good. I hope you enjoy the rest of your dinner.” She walked back to her own table, and her squad finished their meal in complete silence. Something was definitely very wrong here.

 

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **October** **2** **5** **th** **–** **Training field 1** **6** **:45 PM**

Training just ended, and Shepard and Chellick had the unenviable task of hauling every training apparatus back in storage. This usually took near an hour, but Shepard was not above using her biotics to ease the workload, and they soon had everything stowed in place.

“That went well,” Chellick said happily. “We even have a few moment to ourselves.”

He grabbed her and pulled her into his arms, gently pressing his mouth plates to her lips and stealing a kiss. While she usually loved kissing Chellick, today Shepard had more elaborate plans. When she managed to free her tongue from his, she hooked her index fingers behind the first fin on each of his mandibles. “I have something a little different planned for today?”

“Aw, no kisses? Come on Jane, that’s all I think about these days?”

“All you think about?” she said with a faint smile.

“Well, there’s training, and specialization classes, and..”

“Is kissing all you think about in regards to me, I meant?” She wondered how long it would take for his brain to shift into gear.

“Wait, I read about this on the extranet. Human females like to be liked for their minds? You have a very nice, uh, brain?” he added lamely.

“Such a smooth talker, Decian. But I was thinking about something more.”

“This is.. difficult for me. Usually a turian can transmit what they mean in subvocals to low for humans to hear. With you, it’s like a guessing game. Can I get a hint?” He looked hopeful, and she hadn’t the heart to toy with him. At least not _too_ much, at any rate.

“It involves replaying some scenes from a certain magazine.”

Several slow blinks later, he seemed to be catching up. “You mean.. that magazine?”

“I’m pretty sure we’re on the same page now, so to speak.”

“Are you sure? I mean, not that I don’t want to, but you and me are taking things slow, not too slow I hope, but I won’t push you into anything, it’s not like I haven’t thought about it a lot, uh, I mean sometimes, not too often, I’m not a perv lurking in the dark, oh no, not always, except that time, but I would like to-..”

He rambled on until he saw the big grin on her face, and he jolted out of his monologue.

“The short answer would be yes, please.”

“Great. I’ve been hoping for the commander to leave the station, and today he’s gone all day, so we have all evening.”

Chellick beamed at her. “Fantastic. So, where should we.. ?”

“I don’t have a room anymore, and neither do you, so we’ll improvise. I used Vyrnnus’ name to book the gym, saying I’d train Vakarian. There are some soft mats in there, and we can use some makeshift sheets..

“And some towels,” he said, “need to shower afterwards.”

“Hey, I’m not that dirty.”

“Not yet, but wait until you smell like a horny turian has been grinding all over you,” he flared his mandibles. “The whole turian population on this station could smell that.”

“Oh,” she said, blinking. “And what about the smell of-..”

“I got that,” he said hurriedly, understanding what she meant. “Brought several packets from Palaven.”

There was no female in the galaxy that could have missed the eager tone in the young turian. Shepard grinned from ear to ear. “I guess we have a plan then. I’ll get the sheets.”

“I’ll get the prophylactics and the towels.”

“Meet in the gym in 20?”

“How about 15?”

“Deal!”

 

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **October** **2** **5** **th** **–** **Gym** **–** **17:55** **PM**

“So, how do we do this,” he said, looking nervous.

They’d made a provisional bed on the floor with several mats laid on top of each other. Their creation was built inside the small side shed for exercise equipment, since none of them wanted to hold a large show in the middle of the gym court.

“How about a little show and tell first,” she said. She sat down on the bed and pulled her shirt off. From the human version of Fornax, Chellick knew they had the same fleshy chest ornaments as asari, but right now he couldn’t take his eyes of the scars crisscrossing her torso and arms, and his temper flared with the wrong kind of emotion. Shepard saw his mood alter, and stopped removing her bra.

“What’s wrong? Changed your mind?”

“No! Never.” He sat down on the bed beside her and removed his own shirt, while nudging her to continue removing her clothes. “Come on, last one naked is a quadless krogan.”

When they sat naked together on the bed, neither of them was aware who’d won the bet, as they were engulfed in watching the others’ features.

Shepard carefully placed her hands on his plated chest, alternating with stroking the plates with her palms and running her fingers in the soft leathery seams between the plates. Chellick leaned a little back, allowing her free exploration of his body. One of the things she was really curious about was the sensitivity of the waist, and when her soft human fingers touched the suede like hide under his chest plates, Chellick was doing his damnedest not to moan out loud. The muscles under his skin created small ripples in the hide, like a cat trying to shake something out of it’s fur.

“Feels good?” she asked smiling.

“Mmflh,” was the only reply she got.

“I’’l take that as a yes. How about..” she started kneading his waist a little firmer, running her hands on both sides, up and down from his waist to the hips in a large squeezing motion.

“Nngh, that’s, spirits, too many fingers, uungh.”

Shepard took the comment in the spirit in which it was said, from someone who was rapidly losing control of the situation. And speaking of loosening.. The plates on his groin started shifting to either side, and from the sheath underneath a blue shaft emerged. It’s really that blue, Shepard blinked in amazement, not photo-manipulated at all.

From the corner of the eye she noticed Chellick was wary of her reaction. Perhaps he was afraid she’d run screaming out the door when she saw his cock? In truth, she kind of hoped she’d scream before the end of the night, but not in that fashion.

“May I,” she winked at him and let her hand slide towards his parting plates.

“Yes,” he said in a strained voice.

Shepard rubbed his pubic plates with one hand and ran one finger on the other along the parting seam while he became fully exposed. Chellick leaned back on his elbows when she closed her hand around the length of his emerged cock, letting her run the show. She gave it a few slow teasing strokes, and he responded with more moaning. In the Fornax magazine the turian genitals looked like they had ridges. Not so, Shepard mused, they were shaped like corkscrews, albeit, smaller than the photos. The spiral narrowed into a slightly tapered head with a small indentation for expulsion of semen, a perfect fit for a caressing human finger, and he called for his spirits once again. The cock was also secreting some sort of natural sweetly smelling lubricant, and she gave it a few more strokes, slicking her hand and relishing the sounds he made. A devilish impulse came over her.

“Decian, sweetheart? Can you tell me about your penis?”

“Mmph? It’s, uh.. it’s blue.”

“I can see that. What about this helix-shape? Other than pleasure?” She kept up the stroking, and played with his waist at the same time.

“It’s, aah, for.. for expansion.”

“You mean, it gets bigger?” She couldn’t believe her ears.

“Yes.. it’s smaller to fit into the female, and then, spirits..”

Chellick’s body was starting to give off a small vibrating hum emanating from his chest, and stringing together a coherent sentence was difficult for him. She was merciless.

“And then?”

“the friction between the male and the fhhhemale,” he panted, “the spirals, makes blood vessels expand to.., to..”

“Hmm?” Shepard knew she was cruel now, but had to admit, having this large turian at her mercy was more arousing than a million Fornaxes.

“Allow for the passage of.. of..”

“Semen?” She whispered in his ear canal. His subvocals went haywire, fluctuating wildly between pitches, and she could only heard some of it. Shepard looked down at the cock in her hand and it was indeed expanding. Not so big it would be an uncomfortable fit, but just enough. She smiled and noticed something new. At the base of his cock was a strange bulbous form. She hadn’t noticed that in the pictures.

One hand kept pleasuring him, and the other snaked down to nestle the base.

“Decian, what’s thi-..”

Chellick practically roared when he came on her chest and hands, hips jerking up to fuck her fist, and after the first surprise she obliged him willingly, increasing the tempo, working him through his orgasm as he emptied in her hand. His come shot everywhere, and when he was done she was dripping with blue tinged liquid.

Chellick laid back on the bed and drew several ragged breaths while his cock slowly retracted behind his plates.

“Sorry.. a little too good,” he panted.

“I’m having fun,” she smiled, hoisting a towel from the pack. “I see what you mean by shower.”

“Spirits, you got it all over you. That’s not good.”

“I smell bad to you now?” Shepard fell down beside him and wiped the worst of the semen away.

“You smell wonderful, but you smell like my mate. Turians don’t usually.. _spray_ casual encounters. And no, that doesn’t mean we’re casual.”

She gave him a puzzled look. “If the smell comes off in the shower, what’s with the condoms. It’s not like you can get me pregnant. Or have scale itch.” She let the last sentence hang in the air.

“Of course not. But you can’t really scrub with soap on the inside, can you?” he said carefully, and the implication of that sunk into Shepard’s mind like a rock in a lake. They can smell it on the inside, she reflected. Ah, what the hell. Not like she was going to back out now.

When he saw she wasn’t running away, he rolled on his side and pulled her into his arms.

“So, what to do about you? I hope you want me to return the favor?”

Even though Shepard was hot and turned on like a lighthouse, her entire body shuddered and broke out in goosebumps. Her turn. What would he do?

“What do turians normally do to entice a female to sex?” she asked in a casual voice.

“We have two types of standard foreplay, one involving fighting and one involving something like what you just did,” he said and licked her neck. “Which would you prefer?”

“No fighting. Not today,”she said, tilting her head back to expose more neck to him. He happily obliged, nipping gently at the soft skin.

“Then there is more of this,” he said, dragging a blue tongue along her jawline. “Turian females are plated as well, and the male as a rule has to lick them open.”

An involuntary shudder went through her body, and Chellick hummed in delight.

“Oh, that’s interesting. Can I interest my lady in some turian-style licking?”

For once since she first started practicing Skyllian five, her poker face failed her entirely, and she grinned like a crazy woman. “Hell yes.”

 

It was Chellick’s turn to let his hands roam her body, and he did so with great enthusiasm. Every crack and crevice was his to explore, he played with her breasts, fondled her hips and squeezed her ass, but he kept away from where she most wanted his hands to go. Instead he licked her neck, kissed her and curled his tongue around her nipples in a way that bespoke the great research he’d done about human females. Although she savored his attentions, there was another area that yearned for his touch every time she rubbed her thighs together.

“Decian, please?”

“Hmm?”

It was his turn to play the sadist, and he loved it.

“You’re going a little slow, Decian, I need-..” She gasped as he slid one finger with a blunted talon in between her folds.

“Need what Jane?”

It was her time to answer with a gurgle. The look of pure enjoyment on his face as she was writhing under him made her understand why turians sometimes fought as foreplay. She wanted to smack him for procrastinating.

Just when she opened her mouth to tell him precisely that, he began stroking her slit gently, searching for something, and when she gasped loudly, she knew he’d found it. So did he. “It’s not a lie, then. Human females have a special button for pleasure.”

“Please do not call it that, say clitoris or clit or.. aaahhh.”

His movement shifted from stroke to circling, and she let out a whine under him.

“This is for touching my knot without warning me,” he breathed in her ear, “a word to the wise for next time.” He pulled his hand away and slid down her body.

“Let’s see if a human can compete with this.” He pulled out his long blue tongue and showed it to her, wiggling playfully at her before he settled between her legs.

Seconds after she’d seen his tongue and before she felt it graze her outer labia, she heard the sniff as he took in her arousal, and then he parted her lips like the red sea with his blue tongue. She arched her back and tried to press her hips further towards him, but he put each of his arms around one thigh and held her in place, his meaning clear. This was his show, his turn and she had to lay back and submit, as he did earlier for her. And she tried, the gods knows she tried, but he ravished her with that turian tongue, lavishing attention on her clit until she almost came, then changing tactic and pushing it inside her, curling it like a coil but refusing to release her from the sweet agony. Only when she was clawing at the sheets and bucking hard against his hold on her, crying out his name in desperation, did he let her come, his name still on her lips.

Shepard felt like she’d been hit by a skycar when he climbed up beside her and laid down.

“Well? Good?” His flaring mandible smile was large and proud.  
“Fucking amazing,” she gasped and kissed him deeply. Even her human sense of smell could smell her on his face.

“And your squad won’t smell me on you?” she joked.

“Sadly, I’ll have to scrub it all off,” he said with a huff. “Awkward to explain why I smell of human arousal to other turians.”

“Too bad. I like the way you smell.”

“Yeah? I was kinda hoping you were up for a little more,” he said and pressed his plated nose against her cheek. “I was sort of inspired by all your moaning and groaning.”

“I moan and groan? Speak for yourself, turian.”

“I made you speak for me.”

“Showoff. You ready for round two?”

“What do you think?” He took her hand and wrapped it around his reemerged cock. She gave it a few experimental tugs. “It’ll do.”

“It’ll do? Rude human, I’ll give you what for,” he growled playfully and pinned her under him, stealing another kiss from her.

“Let me get a condom,” he said and rolled out of bed.

Shepard stretched out on the makeshift bed as he rummaged in the pack for his prize.

“Found it,” he proclaimed, holding the small packet up like a trophy.

As he rolled the condom on, Shepard sat up and leaned her chin on his shoulder.

“Did you change you mind?” he asked softly. “We can do this some other time if you’re tired.”

“I was just thinking I should start on top, since _you_ might be too tired,” she grinned at him.

“Very funny, Jane. But if you must,” he said and pretended to sag down on the bed, “I might let you do all the work.”

“Don’t I always?”

She climbed into his lap and straddled him, pushing him further back onto the bed.

“Assuming control,” she quipped and lined his cock against her entrance, then waited.

“Come on, Jane, or you I need to draw you an anatomy chart?

She looked at his eager expression and concluded he didn’t deserve the easy option for his insubordination. Shepard slowly lowered herself on his cock, giving him a few shallow hip rolls get used to the feeling of having an alien inside her, and a turian at that. By allowing Chellick to enter her, to fill her, she has passed a threshold of no return. The last vestiges of her mother’s belief that all turians are the enemy disappeared when she met Chellick’s flaming green eyes and heard his soft purr. Not an enemy, just a lover. She rolled her hips again, watchfully following his expression and deepening purr, and just when he thought he’d be fully sheathed inside her, she pulled up and out. Chellick gave a frustrated groan. “Hey, what gives?”

“No lip from the boytoy, just be grateful for what you get.”

From the scowling glare in his eyes, he got it all right. He'd been played again, and did not like it. He enjoyed it, but he didn't like it. Fine distinction, but it was there. She repeated the process again and again, slowly letting him enter her halfway, then pulling his pleasure away from him like a kid with a toy, and Shepard admitted to herself she loved to tease him. The problem was, the more frustrated and horny he got, the more she wanted him plates deep inside her as much as he wanted to be fully sheathed in her, but it devolved to a battle of wills. Chellick broke first. His groans rose in pitch until he begged her, but before she could give him what he wanted, he instinctively jerked up and pressed his crest between her breasts, then placed his arms around her and pulled her down, fully inserting his cock in her tight pussy. Shepard gasped at the sudden intrusion, but was more than wet enough to accommodate him. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he whimpered and tried to soothe her by licking her neck and throat. Must be a turian thing, she reflected, but he didn't harm her, and she showed him that in no uncertain terms.

 

Chellick’s green eyes were almost rolled back in is head and his voice was a hoarse croak when he asked if he could be on top. She had no sooner agreed when he rolled them over and propped himself up on one arm, the other firmly grasped around her ass for leverage and unleashed the beast on her, his inner need to claim her as his own. He pounded her into the mattress, hitting plates deep every time, and even though he once mentioned the word chafing, Shepard knew it’s the rug burns on her ass and shoulders she’d feel tomorrow. It was no more finesse, no more long drawn out foreplay, it was a turian male claiming the female he’s not supposed to court, the female from the enemy clan that could get him killed, and his subvocals sang in triumph that she was willing, open and his to mate. His human female clung to him with one hand inside his cowl and the other on his waist, egging him on as he fucked her hard. He purred and trilled in equal measure, subvocals she couldn't hear begged her to love him as he loves her.

When Chellick was close to reach his climax, his body began to vibrate again. He'd forgotten to tell her, but was a sign of his blood system now pumping the last available blood into his throbbing erection to fully open the ejaculatory ducts in his cock so he could fill her to the brim with his semen. Only the deep conditioning of turian consent stopped him from trying to tie with her, as he hadn't really told her about his knot either. Too many words, too many explanations, they were all lost to him as he reached his peak and thrusted into her one last time. Chellick's entire body vibrated and shook at his release. Shepard cried out under him in her own pleasure, and the feeling of shocked relief flooded him in the afterglow. He almost left her behind. She didn't appear to have noticed, but instead entwined him in a sweaty tangle of arms and legs, eagerly seeking his mouth for more kisses. In his haze of emotions Chellick did something bold. He pressed his forehead against hers, afraid to have crossed some sort of cultural border between their species. She couldn't hear the promise that accompanied his declaration, but somehow understood despite this, stroking his fringe and cupped his mandibles. Chellick cursed inwardly when he felt a short tug in his chest. A small bond had been formed, not noticeable among others yet, but still dangerous. And yet he had never wanted anything so bad in his life before. Shepard needed to know, but not now. He would not ruin this perfect moment, instead he searched for her lips for one more taste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was more difficult than I thought. And my google search history now has things like 'bird penis' and 'dinosaur penis' in it. I need a shower.. And a good stiff.. drink! Mind out of the gutter ;)


	18. Operation Nice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard is trying to befriend her squad, to their great horror.

**217** **4** **CE –** **October** **2** **5** **th** **–** **Shower** **–** **1** **1** **:48** **PM**

“Come on, Decian, how long do I have to stand here?”

For the last 35 minutes Chellick had made her scrub until she was almost raw all over, but every time she stepped outside the stall he sniffed her and twitched his nose. Apparently there was almost no end to the pungency of turian semen, and he scooted her back inside with a stern glare. She looked down on her pruny fingers and the almost empty bottle of soap. If he didn’t deem her smell clean enough soon, they had to raid someone’s locker, or find some other foul smelling liquid to pour on her.

“You’re almost done, Jane. It’s just a small trace of my scent left on you, other than that you smell like detergent.” Shepard heard him try to stifle a chuffing laugh. The fiend, she’d get him for this later.

“It’s not my fault, you know,” he said, “you-..” He went quiet for a few seconds, then hurriedly opened the door and came inside. “Shh, someone’s coming. Turians,” he whispered. After a few more seconds, she too could hear voices coming from the other room.  
“Will they notice us?” she whispered back.

“They will hear the shower, notice me, and smell a soaked human,” he said, “Unless..”

“Unless what? They’re coming now!”

Chellick picked up his own bottle of soap and poured it all over her. It was a special turian plate furbish with a strong aroma and minuscule pumice stones. The smell wasn’t too bad, but when the soap streamed down her body, it gave burning feeling to her sore skin.

“Shh, I know, don’t rub, just stand still and try to stay out of the spray,” he said as the two turians came into the shower. It was Strabo and Mevia.

“There’s someone already in here,” Strabo said, tapping at their stall door.

“So? They’re probably doing the same thing we are,” Mevia said. “Are you shy? Should I ask Castor instead?”

“That guy? Much too careful for you, you need a big strapping turian like myself to help out.”

“Big and strapping? That’s an idea. Maybe I’ll ask one of the squad leaders to help with some stress relief. What about.. Chellick?”

They heard his cough inside the stall and laughed.

“Just saying, sir, you can come out and watch, if you want,” Strabo ventured.

“Or join us,” Mevia added.

Chellick glanced at Shepard with a worried expression. If he was afraid she might take umbrage at the blatant propositioning, he was dead wrong. She held a hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh out loud. Chellick was probably the closest thing to a prude a turian could get, and he was visibly embarrassed.

“That’s fine, just, uh, carry on,” he said over the falling water.

“Your loss,” Mevia crooned. “Now hurry up, if we’re not done here and back in the barracks in time for lights out, you know the overseer will report it to Shepard.”

“I know, I know. Although I like our stress release thing, I like my plates un-flayed too.”

“Hey, hey, careful.”

There was no more comments after that, but Shepard imagined Mevia pointing to Chellick and hers stall, thinking he might divulge their conversation to her. Were they really that scared of her?

 

For some reason, Strabo and Mevia got it on in the public section of the showers, maybe to entice Chellick to join them, maybe because the space was roomier. Either way, Shepard was lost in thought and paid no heed to the screeching, fighting and fucking turians outside. Chellick poured more pumice soap on her now and then. His breath was a little heavy, but he wasn’t really interested in another round. They’d pretty much worn themselves out during the course of the evening, but the sound of another couple having sex so close to them made him a little possessive, and he closed his arms around her, nuzzling her ruffled wet hair and breathing hot air in the crook of her neck.

The screeching reached a crescendo and was shortly after exchanged for panting and scuffle noises. The pair were finished at last.

“Spirits, I can hardly walk,” Strabo gasped. “She’s gonna kill me tomorrow.”

“If you can’t keep up with the squad, I hope she cuts you,” Mevia said with an air of cold rationality.

“You’re all heart, Orestillan,” Strabo said, sounding offended.

“I have plans for my future. I’m going to join the army as a recon-scout, and neither you, nor that wimp Vakarian is going to derail me. If Shepard is my only option to achieve that, I’ll live with the fact that she’s not overfond of turians.”

“I think it’s mostly Vakarian she doesn’t like,” he replied.

“Maybe. She doesn’t seem to care to much about the rest of us either, but at least she doesn’t favor Argyle just because he’s human.”

“Let’s take the conversation elsewhere,” Strabo said, underlining the elsewhere.

“Take your time, sir,” he said loudly, banging on the stall door as he walked out.

 

After they left, Chellick helped Shepard hose away the worst of the turian soap. The good thing about this was that she no linger smelled like Chellick, the bad that she reeked of plate shiner. Shepard was in no mood to stand another half hour under the running water, she wasn’t a godsdamned fish. In addition, the overheard conversation between Mevia and Strabo bothered her. In her second year turians applied to be in her training group, now they feared to be in her squad? It was Vyrnnus’ words come true.

“I suppose we could start over with the washing,” Chellick said, interfering in her train of thought.

“No! Absolutely not. Any longer in the water and I’m going to develop fins. Let’s just find something else that’s more inconspicuous to cover it up. Gun oil, maybe?”

He considered this. “It might work, but it won’t mask everything.”

“I get up early tomorrow and have another shower, saying I found this bottle and got some on me, how’s that?”

“You know, they might imagine you in a stall where a turian supposedly took care of his intimate needs?”

“They can imagine all they want, as long as they don’t know the truth.” She gave him a quick peck on the mandible. “Let’s get out of here before the next batch of sex-crazed turians arrive.”

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **October** **2** **7** **th** **–** **Armax combat simulator supervision room** **–** **09:31** **AM**

Aside from Castor and Mevia, the rest of the squad made their way through the combat sim with ruthless efficiency. Shepard had picked a Hastatim-program that incorporated a rouge turian faction needing to be suppressed. It was a suburban setting for 5 squad members, and Castor and Mevia were the odd pair out this time. She’d called them to the holo-booth to watch their teammates performance, and to ask them to point out potential problems as they saw them arise. Their reluctance was obvious.

“I’d rather not, Shepard.” Castor was the first to admit his qualms. “It’s like I’m calling them out on their mistakes in front of our superior.”

“I agree with Castor. It’s not our place,” Mevia said.

Shepard sighed. Loyal to a fault. To big a fault this time.

“So, you would rather your comrades developed bad habits that will get them killed, rather than help them? I see..” She scribbled a few notes on the datapad for effect.

“No, we just.. We think it’s your job, that’s all,” Castor said again. Mevia however, looked doubtful and flicked her eyes between Shepard and the screen. When Aius went through a door without checking behind it, she raised a talon hesitantly to the holo-screen, then lowered it again.

“You caught that? Good. That’s the third time today Aius forgot to check his flank. That’s three dead turians, and a severely weakened squad. The sooner we get that fixed, the better.”

The two turians waited while she picked up a transmitter and froze the program.

“Third missed doorway, Aius. You’re one very dead turian. Start the program from the beginning, and do _not_ make the same mistake again.”

The remaining squad members made no sound, but Castor and Mevia saw them giving Aius the evil eye as they trudged back to their starting positions.

Shepard swiveled her chair back to face them. “If these kinds of mistakes are not weeded out as soon as possible, the whole team will be put at risk. Tier one, folks, that’s our goal, and with a little help from you, we’ll make it in no time. And rest assured, those guys in the maze now will be asked to evaluate you in a few hours. So, from the top?”

They chorused a “yes, Shepard,” and returned their focus to the screen. Some of the things she said appeared to have sunk in, as they were more eager to call out errors now. Shepard noted mistakes on the pad for a later review, the more grievous ones were handled by pausing the program and addressing the offender at once. At first her squad looked like they were waiting for an erupting volcano at every fault, but Shepard kept her tone neutral and calm. After while they were still guarded, but not openly hostile.

Through the day she rotated the squad so that every one of them got some time in the booth with her, and unsurprisingly, Garrus was stiff as a board when it was his turn to be in her presence. His unwillingness to point out mistakes was clear, but despite a small urge to strangle him, Shepard made her argument in a rational manner that appealed to his team spirit.

“You need to spot these mistakes and address them as fast as possible. It’s your responsibility as a future leader, and as part of a team. If the commander of a team fails to lead them, his entire team will suffer. Know your weak links, and use your people accordingly.”

“Meaning?” Garrus asked carefully.

“Don’t place people with obvious flaws in a position where an enemy might exploit it. Know your team, what it can do, and what it can’t.”

“Do you do this?” The question was like a small needle under a finger nail, but she ignored the sting.

“I try to, but I make mistakes, same as everyone.”

“What do you do to rectify mistakes?” Garrus was like a varren with a dead pyjak, and she had to restrain herself from telling him to fuck off. She knew what brought on the questions. They both did.

“Sometimes they can’t be rectified, one can only learn from the experience and do better in the future.”

 

Garrus came around to some degree eventually and tried his best to help his team by denoting weaknesses in their advance. Shepard was again impressed, this time over his intuitive grasp of the battlefield. Unfortunately, this did nothing to help the strained relationship between them. Nirea was chattering a lot for a turian, trying to keep the tension from rising.

“The Hastatim squads are the best at repressing an uprising,” she said, “Everyone not in the safe zones are shot. Everyone inside are protected.”

“Does it apply to all civilians,” Shepard asked while fiddling intently with a keyboard.

“There are no turian civilians, Shepard,” Garrus said proudly. “Enemies of the Hierarchy will be killed and cremated.”

There was a loud crack in the room when the keyboard snapped in two, but she managed to keep in check the sudden need to punch him in his smug face. Cremated. That’s basically what happened to her father, and the thousands of other human beings in the Siberian metro. ‘This is your own fault,’ she reminded herself, ‘you picked the program. Say nothing, it’s the last round of the day. Let Vakarian go, use the anger against Vyrnnus later.’ Nirea and Garrus both looked unsettled, and Shepard leaned back in the chair and discreetly tossed the pieces away. Way to go reassuring your squad, she sighed inwardly. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence Shepard exhaled deeply and relaxed. The lesson would soon be over. How bad could it get in here? She heard tentative sniffs behind her, and pinpointed the source as her silver stalker.

“Why does it smell like plate shiner and gun oil in here?” he said bewildered. Shepard again fought the urge to murder him, mainly because she had no place to hide and cremate the body.

By the time the hourglass jingled on the holo-screen, both Shepard and Garrus were more than relieved to be rid of each other.

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **October** **2** **8** **th** **–** **Mess Hall** **–** **07:** **02** **AM**

Breakfast on the station wasn’t served until 07:30 AM, but Shepard and Chellick had started a routine of coming in early to have a short talk before the start of the day. Right now she felt like no matter what she said, the squad would always mistrust her. Not a big surprise, all things considered. Chellick, on the other hand, was a careful optimist.

“Like we talked about, Jane. Be nice, take an interest in them. Do you know what they sound like to a turian when you get near? They’re genuinely scared of you. You come off as unpredictable and aloof, not caring whether they fail or pass their exams.”

“And I’ll fix this by what? Passing out hugs and kisses?” Sarcasm dripped from every syllable, but Chellick was unperturbed. “Nope, those are mine. And on that subject, Aius wants to smell your hair. I vote no on that too.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, which is it? I scare them or they want to get in my undersuit? It can’t be both.”

“Why not? It’s a turian thing, but right now they see you as more tyrannical than a dominant leader should be. Kind of like.. you and Vyrnnus.”

For Shepard, it was like he just doused her in ice water. “Like Vyrnnus? _Vyrnnus_?! What the hell, Decian?”

“Calm down, I only meant-..”

“That I play with my squad for sport, to see how much hurt they can take before they crack? That I enjoy inflicting pain on them? Fuck you!”

Breakfast could go to hell. Shepard got up and stormed out. Over her shoulder she could hear Chellick call out, but she needed some new recirculated air to breathe in, and ignored his plea.

She knew she was being childish, but the comparison between herself and Vyrnnus hit a little too close to home. Were they really that similar? To her, Vyrnnus was a capricious bastard, out for his own ends and not caring about the havoc he wreaked among his students. Had she become like that? In her mind, it was only Vakarian she had a problem with, but did her squad see it like that? Or had she been insulated by having several turian friends, forgetting how suspicious she herself had been when she first came aboard. She arrived at the combat sim arena with a growling stomach. It was stupid to run out on both Chellick and food, but stubborn pride prevented her from going back. She could apologize to him later. It was time to be ‘nice’ to her squad.

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **October** **2** **8** **th** **–** **Armax combat simulator supervision room** **–** **08:45** **AM**

Castor Sorio kept his yellow eyes on the screen, unsure of what to do. His squad leader kept asking him questions about himself in a polite and interested manner, and he was terrified to make a mistake. What if he had the wrong plans for his life? What if she wrote a damning report on him after the war games? Spirits, why couldn’t she leave him alone? Beside him, Nirea clicked her mandibles in agitation. It would be her turn after him.

“A field medic? You want to join the army then?” Shepard asked.

“Yes, sir. I want to help save lives, not just end them.” Was that comment offensive to humans? Castor had no idea.

“Is that why you’re always over at the hospital?”

She was aware of that? Spirits, was she angry? “Uh, yes. Doctor Publius is holding advanced courses in first aid for turians. Is that a problem?”

“No problem at all. I think it’s good you follow up on your plans. If you sometimes need to leave early to get there in time, I’m sure I can rearrange it so you have your practice session first in the day and can go after that. Perhaps you can instruct the rest of the squad later on what you’ve learned?”

Castor blinked slowly several times. That was not what he expected to hear. “Uuuh.. Yeah. Sure. Thank you, Shepard.” He thanked the spirits when it was Nireas’ turn.

 

“How about you, Nirea? Based on your performance when you first came here, I would guess combat engineer, but I could be wrong.”

“Erm, no, you’re not wrong. My mother is a combat engineer, and I want to follow the family tradition.” Just as she said it, she remembered the Shepard family tradition was to kill turians, and instantly regretted the comment. Shepard merely smiled. She _smiled!_ What was wrong with her lately?

“I understand traditions are important for turians. Not surprising, considering you’ve been guardians of Citadel space for thousands of years,” Shepard said, and Nirea wondered if it was a hint to the relay incident.

“My mother and I don’t always see eye to eye on matters, but I hope she’ll come around one day.”  
Before she could stop her mouth plates, Nirea asked; “Any particular matters?”

Shepard smiled her crooked smile again. “Turians, for example. You’re not as bad as I believed when I came to Jump Zero.”

The timer on the screen rang out, and it was time for rotation. Castor and Nirea left the booth utterly perplexed. What was going on with Shepard?

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **October** **2** **8** **th** **–** **Armory** **–** **16:07 PM**

It was Aius and Argyle’s turn to check and clean the squads weapons and armor, but Strabo had tagged along in pure frustration.

“And then she asked me if I had any plans at all after boot. I told her, I’d accept whatever position my superiors believe I’m most suited for, and she looked.. she looked.. Argyle, what was it?”

Argyle grinned. “She looked sad.”

“She looked sad! On my behalf! Like I was considering building a house in an Invictus jungle. I mean, come on! Since when did she care about our future?” Strabo sounded exasperated, and Aius tried not to laugh.

“I think she’s just disappointed she’s spent months trying to teach you to shoot straight and fight properly, and you might end up like a toilet scrubber. Doesn’t say much about her teaching skills, does it.” He loved riling up Strabo.

“Oh give me a break. I’ll probably end up in the infantry like most of us. It’s just.. she looked at me like she hoped for more.”

“Or perhaps you’re the one hoping for more,” Argyle murmured as he poured more gun oil on the cleaning rod.

“Fuck you, human. I’m not the deviant here,” Strabo barked and jerked his head in Aius’ direction.

“As if you’ve never thought of it,” Aius grinned. “I’ve heard you when she pins you and hold you down.”

“Fuck both of you,” Strabo said, straining to keep the humiliation from his subvocals.

“In the future that will be as normal as asari relationships,” Argyle said from his cleaning station.

“You approve of this sickness?” Strabo couldn’t believe his ears.

“It’s not sick, it’s just different.”

“I think the human has his eye on a turian himself,” Aius cut in, as Argyle took on a darker shade of pink.

“Who?” Strabo demanded.

“Now it’s your turn to go fuck yourself,” Argyle shot back.

“Guys, no fighting in here, this is the armory.” Aius got between them and held out his arms to keep distance. “Even if Shepard is.. I don’t know, suffering some sort of personality blackout right now, you never know when she might snap back and tear your arms off for causing trouble.”

Strabo and Argyle stood down, but neither was done with the conversation.

“Let’s wait a while. If Shepard reverts back to her old ways, all’s well, but if not.. I don’t know. I honestly don’t. The whole situation is creepy.” Aius gave an involuntary shudder, and the other two nodded in agreement.

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **October** **2** **8** **th** **–** **En route to Mess Hall** **–** **18:13** **PM**

“If you could behave like a normal turian and answer a few questions, I wouldn’t look the idiot standing next to you!” Mevia’s voice was as sharp as her talons.

“It’s none of her business,” Garrus mumbled.

“That you want to join the Spectres? Every little fledgling wants that,” she scoffed. “Be glad I told her you want to be a sniper or join your father in C-sec.”

“Glad? Why should I be glad about that? Shepard hates my father, and you just reminded her.”

“Because she might have died laughing otherwise. You in the Spectres, really? You couldn’t fight your way out of a carton of rations.”

“And you couldn't shoot your way out of that same carton, so keep your mouth shut. Recon scout my plates. Even if you could spot the enemy, you can’t hit him.”

Mevia came to a sudden stop and grabbed Garrus by his cowl. “If Shepard hadn’t forbidden me from beating the crap out of you before you can walk without bawling your gizzard out, you’d be in a world of hurt right now. Stay away from me, Vakarian.” She pushed him backwards and kept walking to the mess hall. Garrus rubbed his cowl where she’d burrowed her talons and followed at a distance. Was it this station that made all the females crazy, or was it just him? Spirits, he wanted to go back to Palaven.

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **October** **2** **8** **th** **–** **Library** **–** **19:57** **PM**

Shepard and Chellick had quickly finished their dinner, he then helped her skim through her biotic notes, and now they were hidden away in on of the public sofas on the library upper floor. Shepard knew it was time for that talk she skipped out of at breakfast.

“You were right about the squad, by the way. They do see me like Vyrnnus. Sorry for acting like a child this morning.”

“I don’t mean to hurt you when I say these things. I mean to help.”

“I know, but some things are just hard to hear. I.. can we talk about something else?

“Whatever you want, Jane.”

“Tell me about yourself. I’ve never asked before, it’s long overdue. What do you want to do when you leave Gagarin?”

“Ah, my grand plan.” He made himself comfortable on the sofa and pulled her close. When she was nestled in his arm and he had his nose buried in her hair, he was ready to continue.

“Most turians serve years in the army. It’s an honorable career, but I want to serve the mandatory time only and transfer to C-sec. My father worked there before he went back to Palaven, and I grew up hearing stories about chasing criminals, fugitives and slavers all over Citadel space.”

Shepard listened to him retell several of his childhood stories, and while she suspected parts of them were censured to suit an underage turian, she had to admit it sounded exciting.

“Maybe one day I’ll be Executor of the Citadel.”

The title jogged her memory. “Isn’t that Galenus Vakarian’s job now?”

Chellick was pulled out of his reveries. “Oh! Yes, but.. I.. Uh..”

“Relax. I can hear his name without going crazy.”

“Phew. That’s a load off. Yeah, he is. Kind of a hard-ass. Always by the book, and nothing outside the book. I hear he comes down heavily on anyone of his officers trying to doctor evidence.”

“Rule of law is absolute? No bending the rules? How boring.”

Chellick crossed his arms and gave her a withering stare. “That’s how the Citadel works. Without the rules, we’d have chaos.”

There was no discussing with that tone of voice, and Shepard conceded his point in good humor, even if deep down, she was more than a little willing to skirt the rules to achieve the best result. She’d let Chellick be the paragon of good behavior. As for herself, she’d be what the situation called for.

“Jane, we need to talk about something else.” Chellick spoke softly, but she felt the muscles in his arm tense.

“Uh-oh, that can’t be good.”

“I did something to you when we laid together,” he said, keeping his voice very low.

“You did several very nice things, as I recall,” she smiled and kissed his mandible.

“This is serious, Jane.” He cupped her face and looked her straight in the eye.

“I.. We made a bond.”

“Nope, can’t remember you tying me down. Maybe next time?”

“Stop that. I mean it.”

She sighed. It had to be a turian thing. One among many. “Okay, tell me about this bond.”

“It’s what happens when two or more turians get very close. First it’s just a small bond to signify that they’re.. what you humans call boyfriend and girlfriend, but closer. If they continue to share of themselves with each other, over time it evolves and matures into a lover’s bond. Should the people involved want to become proper mates, they make the bond official by becoming pledged to one another, life-bonded. That’s the final stage, very serious. Other turians and species that have a strong sense of smell can sometimes pick up that individuals are bonded this way by sensing their pheromones. Not all the time, but still..”

“Right.” Shepard wasn’t sure she liked where this was going. “Can this bond be undone?”

“Yes, it’s normal for young turians to have small bonds when they’re have many partners. Breaking a lover’s bond hurts, but most turian’s experience that once or twice in a life time. A life-bond is.. more difficult. It can be broken, but it can also break the turian mentally.”

Shepard shuddered. “And where did we land on this scale?”

“I.. We have a small bond now. Or at least I do, I don’t know how humans react to a bonding turian.” Chellick mulled over his own words while he absentmindedly kept playing with her hair, trying to make the short locks stand out like a fringe. When he noticed her amused grin, he looked away and twitched his nose plates. “Maybe we should ask Publius?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “The last time I saw Publius, he stabbed me in the neck with a needle.”

“Fine, I can go when I have the time, if _you_ continue to make an effort to get close with your squad.”

“Hair-smelling close?”

“Jane!” he warned her and nipped an earlobe.

“Iiihh. All right all right. Gods, I get manhandled by turians everywhere I go.”

“Mmmh, it’s just dreadful,” he murmured and turned her head so he could kiss her.

 

**217** **4** **CE –** **November 06** **th** **–** **Outside the** **Library** **–** **20:04** **PM**

“Come on, Strabo, don’t be such a wuss,” Aius whispered.

“I’m not a wuss, you halfwit,” Strabo growled as he clutched his metal boots.

Conatix spared no expense on the new combat sims, but whenever students needed new armor they insisted the old one had to be worn down to the nubs. Strabo had tried to repair his pair of boots several times, but the metal was getting stressed. It had began to break apart in places, but not enough to warrant a replacement, at least not for the station quartermaster. The next day they would have a half- station march, and Strabo knew the boots would break after a few miles, forcing him to march on sharp metal for the remains of the day if Shepard didn’t help him out. A very big if.

“She’s been nice so far,” Argyle said encouragingly, “perhaps our luck will hold.”

“Or perhaps she’ll mount my head in the bio-barracks, with an expression like this.” Strabo rolled his eyes back and let his tongue hang out.

“A clear improvement if you ask me,” Aius said with a smirk. “Get in there.”

They pushed him through the door while staying in relative safety on the outside. Strabo tried for a casual stroll, but the silence of the library combined with the knowledge that somewhere inside, Shepard was working and not eager to be disturbed made him tip-talon around the corners looking for her.

He found her in the biotic section, datapads propped up on a communal table in a semi circle around her seat. The quick tapping on a keyboard in front of her made him think she hadn’t seen him yet, until she curled her upper lip in a sarcastic smile.  
“Trying to assassinate me, Strabo? Your breathing is a little too loud for that.”

“Uhm, no. Not yet, anyway,” he managed to splutter.

The smile spread to her entire face. “Not yet trying to kill me? I’ll watch my back in a month or two, when you’re ready.”

A nervous laugh escaped him, and he trudged forward and held out his boots. “These are pretty worn to my eyes,” he said, “but the quartermaster says they’re good for another couple of months. Tomorrow is marching day, and so I thought..” Strabo stopped, trying to decide if the look she gave him was of annoyance or pity.

“Let me see then.” She held her arms out, and he gave her the pair. On one side the small metal rivets had started to crack, and it would take him the better part of the night if he had to fix it.

“Hmm.. Typical turian eyesight,” Shepard said while raising en eyebrow. “Can’t spot a krogan in a den of vorchas.”

Strabo’s neck took on a darker shade of blue, then widened his eyes as the boots glowed purple. The rivets along the seams creaked and snapped one by one with a metallic ping, while the metal plates groaned under the pressure and bent into an unrecognizable twisted shape. The boots clattered as they hit the table. Strabo stared at her with slack mandibles while she rubbed her temples.

“These boots aren’t pretty worn, they’re ruined. Tell the quartermaster that if he won’t replace them, I’ll lodge a complaint with commander Vyrnnus himself.”

“I.. Thanks, Shepard.” He gathered up the pieces and gave her a grateful smile, the first one since he arrived on the station.

“Not a problem.” She gave him a roguish wink back, and Strabo could understand in that moment why Aius kept blabbing about sniffing her fringe. Not really wanting to break the spell, he searched for another question before he had to leave.

“Hey, is commander Vyrnnus as strict as they say?”

Her smile froze and he thought he saw a small twitch in her face. Shepard, afraid?

“He’s.. not to be trifled with, no. You guys shouldn’t worry about him though, he deals only with biotics. Anyone else on the team need something replaced before the march?”

“Erm, no, I think we’re all good.”

“Good. Don’t want any unnecessary injuries on the team.” She paused and stared at her hands. “One was more than enough.”

Strabo tried to work up the courage to ask about the incident with Garrus, but she placed her hands firmly down on the table and he missed his moment.

“Was there anything else? I have a lot of reading to do before my practical lessons.”

“You have lessons this late?” Strabo noted her hesitance before giving her anwer.

“It’s just.. remedial biotics with the commander. I’m a bit slow on the uptake. Now of you pop, you need to get that to the quartermaster before he closes shop for the night.”

The conversation was over, but Strabo was sure she wasn’t telling the entire truth. Remedial lessons? Her? His hind plates it was. Something was up with Shepard, something to do with Vyrnnus, and since this new version was a lot more agreeable than the other, he wanted to keep it that way. Aius and Argyle was waiting outside, and he decided to enlist their help in snooping out the latest rumors concerning their changeable squad leader.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just got Horizon Zero Dawn in the mail, and in addition to being a very fun game to play, I also imagined some of the fanfic that will be written about this game. Unfortunately, Andromeda is also out in three weeks, and just to top it all off my boss threatens mandatory overtime this month.. I may just have to sit outside in the snow until I catch pneumonia to stay home and play/write. Hopefully I will still manage a weekly chapter, but I might also be delayed. Sorry about that.  
> Happy weekend! :)


	19. Victory and spoils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Third examination is coming up, and both Shepard and the squad is on edge.

**2174 CE – November 12** **th** **– Training Room – 17:26 PM**  
“So, any luck?” Argyle put his barbell into the rack with a clang and wiped sweat from his face.  
Aius swished his mandibles in denial. “Not one whiff. They all clammed up when I approached the subject. Not even Victus wanted to say anything, and he’s the one that told me about the krogans. Why don’t we just ask Shepard herself?”  
“No, we’re not gonna ask Shepard. I don’t her to know how much we’re snooping around behind her back. Bad enough you asked Victus.” Strabo crossed his arms and looked at his two squad mates. “Let’s hear what Argyle coaxed from that biotic girl he’s always flirting with. Did you learn anything?”  
Argyle picked up a set of dumbbell and started on his hammercurls.  
“Yes and no. Shepard haven’t been in regular biotics class all year, she studies by herself in the library, then trains alone or with the commander after that. Specialty first year was defense and second year object manipulation. Speaking of which, there is a bitchin’ vid from a mini-tool recording that shows Shepard bio-pelting a whole group of first-year students with small balls on the field, among others Decian Chellick and Emerus Victus. Other than that she could also use biotics to levitate herself. Guys, you really have to see that vid. It’s awesome.”  
“Nothing about her and Vyrnnus?” Strabo asked.  
“Anne and Shepard both had Vyrnnus as instructor. There was an incident two years ago when a student almost killed Vyrnnus. Anne said Shepard and some other male biotic saved his life.”  
“Anne? Oh, your little girlfriend,” Aius said. “That can’t be right. There are rumors that she and another biotic made life hell for Vyrnnus for years, not that they saved him.”  
Argyle shrugged. “Who knows. Anne wouldn’t say another word about him.”  
“Shepard can levitate?” Strabo said in awe. “I’ve only seen that on holo-vids of Saren Arterius.”  
Argyle looked puzzled at his two companion’s reverence. The illustrious Spectre had history with the Shepards, and the image he conjured in their minds was one of awe.  
“I heard Shepard's mother fought against Saren years ago,” Aius said. “There was a skirmish on the Alliance side of the Skyllian Verge.”  
“Yeah, I remember that. My dad talks about that a lot,” Argyle interrupted, “some pirates escaped a turian cruiser by entering Alliance space, and when the cruiser tried to pursue, the SSV Vengeance swooped in to stop the turians infringing our borders, gave them a good thrashing,” he said with poorly hidden pride, until he saw the staring faces surrounding him.  
“He said it, not me,” he added meekly.  
Strabo wiggled his mandibles in repressed anger, then forced himself to simmer down. “I think that was reported differently on our newsfeed,” he said through clenched mouth plates.  
“Whatever. That wasn’t our Shepard,” Aius said. He turned to Argyle. “Think you can get the vid of her playing with balls?”  
Argyle coughed and snickered at the same time. “I’ll ask my ‘source,’ but not in those words.”  
“Let us know when you have it,” Strabo said. “I have to, erm, go meet someone.”  
“”Yeah you do,” Aius grinned and was joined with Argyle in laughing. “Take care she doesn’t wear you out before thirex.”  
“Funny!” Strabo growled at them and stalked out.

 

**2174 CE – November 15 **th** – Sand pit – 18:16 PM**  
Ever since Garrus started training with Shepard after hours, his skill level at hand to hand had increased rapidly. Where he first would swing wildly, he now struck with purpose and balance. Instead of charging in like a blood crazed krogan, he now waited for an opening and exploited it. He knew he was getting rather good, which was why he couldn’t understand why seeing Shepard smile at him in approval behind her guard was making him nervous. Had she spotted a chink in his defense and was waiting for him to make the move? Was there a glaring fault in his fighting stance? Garrus couldn't make up his mind, and that made him two seconds too slow when she caught him around the waist and pulled him down to the ground. Again he was pinned under her as she sat atop of him. He thrummed his subvocals in anger.  
“What are you saying?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.  
“Uh, you can hear that?” he said in disbelief.  
“Nope, but turians sometimes have a minor tremble in their chest when they use their..” She stopped and suddenly looked flustered.  
“Never mind. Training! I got you under me again, how are you going to escape?”  
As fast as possible, he wanted to say as she shifted position on him again, making his groin plates twinge. Spirits, what was wrong with him? He needed to get away.  
“Uh, any advice?”  
“You’re a lot heavier than me. If you can get me off balance, then use the momentum to turn the table on me.” She gave him an encouraging nod.  
Garrus took a few sharp breaths, then quickly jerked one arm from her hold and struck her in the kidneys. When Shepard let out the air in her lungs with a groan, he dragged her down by the shoulder and rolled them over, trying to get her to release her hold. Shepard wasn’t about to let up that easily. She hooked her legs around his midriff and tried to wrestle him into an armlock. That would have been bad enough if Garrus wasn’t right now making the discovery that having a wriggling alien female under you was even worse than having it on top. Her legs around his waist certainly didn’t help, and he was horrified at the thoughts that fought their way into his brain, Shepard under him and writhing for other reasons.  
“Please, stop,” he gasped and Shepard dropped her hold immediately.  
“Did I hurt you? Is it the plate?”  
“It’s.. it stung.” He was a bad liar, but Shepard didn’t notice this time.  
“Hey, it’s okay. Let me see.”  
He climbed off her and she got up with a concerned look on her face. He knew she was going to insist, and he pulled the suit up without protest so she could check. She carefully traced the healed plate with her cold human fingers, and the unfamiliar feel made him wince. She mistook it for pain.  
“Looks healed, but these wounds can still hurt in the lower layers of the skin. Or hide, in your case,” she said and looked at the omni-tool timer. That was another thing, Garrus thought, why did she have an omni-tool? No one else was allowed.  
“I think we better call it for today. There is another booking in a few minutes, and you might want a shower and rest before dinner.”  
“Yeah, sure.” Garrus knew she often missed meal time, but he wasn’t about to ask why. He followed her off the pit when the next team arrived. They were all humans, and Garrus recognized one of the taller humans. It was Todd Erikson from squad three, one of the students that stood by and watched when he got jumped the first day. Garrus fixed his eyes on the human walking in front of him, staring at her strange waist when they walked past the other group, and didn’t see the shoulder until it was too late. Erikson slammed his massive frame into Garrus as he passed, and Garrus spun and fell over in the sand.  
“Ops, sorry. Didn’t see you there,” Erikson grinned. He also gave Shepard an appreciative wink. His winking eye remained closed as a purple biotic field froze him in place. Garrus got up and stared at Shepard. She was livid.  
“How the fuck dare you mess with _MY_ squad?” she bellowed over the pit, making the sound of her voice echo in the rafters. “I should splatter your skull against the concrete wall for that!”  
Garrus didn’t know if he should be grateful or terrified of being under Shepard's protection. At least this time her anger wasn’t pitted against him, but crushing this guy’s skull might be a slight overreaction, even if he was an asshole.  
“Hey, Shepard, come on. I think they get the message,” he said under his breath. His voice seemed to break the trance of fury she was in, and she released Erikson from the hold and stepped into his face instead. “If I hear of one more such incident, you’ll regret it. I ‘m guessing you’ve heard of what I can do? Don’t think I won’t use it against humans.”  
She turned around and gestured Garrus to come along. He followed her without another word. Hopefully, after thirex he wouldn’t need more of these intimate encounters with humans. They were getting under his plates.

 

**2174 CE – November 18 **th** – Locker Room – 10:06 AM**  
“Let me see, let me see!” Castor eagerly bent over Argyle’s shoulder to watch the vid playing on his pad. Distorted images of a biotic tornado sweeping over the field and smacking down all opposition flickered on the screen, and the turians huddled around the lone human chuffed gleefully that someone other than them had been on the receiving end of that one. The sight of Chellick zigzagging all over the field to escape the barrage of balls following him had most of them howling in laughter, even Garrus gave a small chuckle, despite once having been subjected to Shepard himself. Then as the final act commenced, they gasped in shock as Shepard launched herself into the air and slammed down on Chellick’s head, until it was revealed to be a ruse.  
“That was terrifying,” Nirea exclaimed, “imagine seeing that coming towards your face.”  
“I’m in love,” Aius said dreamily.  
“You’re in lust, sicko,” came Strabo’s reply, but he gave Aius a friendly nudge.  
“I’m appalled that you can even consider that,” Garrus snapped at Aius.  
“And you’re all in deep shit for lingering in the locker room when you should be running the obstacle course with the rest of the squads,” came a sour voice from the door. Shepard was leaning against the door frame with a look of mild disappointment. “What are you gawking at?”  
Argyle quickly hid the pad behind his back. “Don’t even think about it,” Shepard barked, “show me.”  
He reluctantly handed over the pad, and she began the recording again. To their great surprise, she laughed out loud. “Somebody filmed this? Fantastic. Why don’t you make me a copy for later,” she smiled and handed the pad back to Argyle. “Now get out on the course.”  
Shepard pointed at the door, and they almost fought to get out first.

 

**2174 CE – November 18 **th** – Obstacle Course – 10:32 AM**  
“Why are you late, Shepard?” Emerus and his squad was already lined up at the start.  
“My squad was hiding in the locker room again,” she replied, to their consternation and protests.  
“Hey, we were watching an old vid of you two,” Aius shouted from the back.  
“What vid?” Emerus called out.  
“The one with the biotic hail of balls,” came the answer.  
Emerus turned to Shepard with an evil grin. He raised his voice and said; “Hey, did you tell them why you almost wiped out your group?”  
Garrus saw Shepard's jaw tense, and she raised her flat palm to her throat in a slashing movement, but Victus didn’t care, he just chuffed a laugh. “Whoops. Guess you got to tell them now.” He turned to her squad. “It’s quite scandalous,” he grinned, before blowing the whistle and he and his squad entered the course.  
“So, uh, why did you challenge the entire group?” Strabo was getting bold after Victus’ joking and Shepard’s new found good humor.  
“You want to know?” Shepard said casually.  
“Yes.”  
“You _really_ want to know?”  
“Yes!” Now Aius and Mevia joined in.  
“Then haul your sorry asses in to a first tier placement, and I’ll tell you,” she grinned. “And Emerus is right, it was scandalous.”  
“Oooh, you’re on, Shepard. That juicy gossip is ours.” Aius got up on the starting line and was rearing to go. Behind him the rest of the squad lined up, with Garrus last. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about all this, but he would not be throwing himself into the line of fire again.

 

**2174 CE – November 18 th – Obstacle Course – 13:30 PM**  
“But can you do it? Argyle asked.  
“Yes, if I wanted my eyeballs to pop out of my head. It’s dangerous, and I haven’t tried it in a year.”  
“Come on, Shepard. Just once?” he begged with fervor.  
Squad four was done with their rounds, and they were waiting for the last stragglers from opposing squads to finish. Argyle had spent the last ten minutes trying to talk Shepard into ‘flying,’ as he called it.  
“Nobody will mind,” he tried again. “Look, captain Corinthus isn’t even looking at us. They’re too busy timing the last ones. Please?”  
“Please?” Strabo added. Another ‘please’ was heard from Aius, then Nirea, then the whole squad except Garrus was saying ‘please please please’ in a high pitched begging marathon. Shepard finally relented.  
“All right, but it’s nothing like flying. More like getting launched in the air with a rather ugly descent.”  
“Yess!” Argyle hissed, “this is going to be great.”  
Shepard had a small sense of foreboding as she took a few steps away from them and let her body be enveloped in biotic power. Showing off in front of her squads, really? Had she really become that vain? Well, too late to change her mind now, she figured and jumped into the air while she activated a lift. Her body floated up in the air as she was straining to keep from tearing any more blood vessels than necessary, and the squad whooped and cheered under her. The whole thing lasted maybe 20 seconds, before she heard captain Corinthus bellow from the observer’s stand. “Fire in the hole!” Her squad dived for cover, and there was a loud bang and something hit her square in the stomach, making her drop the lift and fall down. She managed to do a combat roll as she landed, but stayed on the ground, groaning in pain. A bean bag. The captain had shot her with a godsdamned bean bag.  
“I’ve told you what I think about foolish displays, Shepard,” the captain shouted in their direction, and she managed to conjure up the wherewithal to answer with a ‘yes, sir.’  
Strabo walked up to her with a worried look on his face. “Are you okay, Shepard?”  
“I’m a little reduced, Strabo. Mind giving me a hand?”  
He pulled her on her feet, and she clutched her side with a faint smile.  
“Last time he merely yelled at me. This time he shot me. Wonder what he’ll do a third time,” she said with a short glance in their direction.  
“I think we better not find out,” Castor said. “Want me to look at where he hit you? We do human anatomy in class too.”  
Shepard took two steps backward as if she needed to fend him off. “No, no, that’s fine. Just a bruise.”  
“It’s what you’d make us do,” Garrus said with a stare.  
“Back off, okay?” she snapped, and they all took a step back, exchanging hurt or offended looks. Shepard exhaled silently. She’d left herself just enough rope to hang herself, but she simply could not let them see the scars covering her body. It would raise unwanted questions.  
“Look, guys, I’m sorry for being short, but I’m really fine.”  
They eased up a bit, but she could see they were not entirely trustful. If she didn’t trust them, how could they trust her? If there was a solution to this conundrum, Shepard wasn’t able to see it.  
She was saved from trying to make more amends by the commanding roar of captain Corinthus summoning her over to the observer’s stand. “Great, now I’ll be chewed out for ‘insipid human arrogance,’, thank you Argyle,” she joked and flashed him a smile. That broke some of the tension between her and the squad. “Meet up back on the shooting range in 30 minutes.”

 

**2174 CE – November 18 **th** – Library – 20:04 PM**  
“It’s not funny, Celsus, I fell down like a sack of meat,” Shepard said to the chuffing turian. “Hopefully your dad got that out of his system.”  
“I’ll take care of it later,” Chellick hummed while brushing his talons in her hair, like he often did.  
“Your fr.. hair is very different from a turians. And it smells..well, sweet, to us.”  
“Stop flaunting your human girlfriend in my face, Chellick,” Celsus said with a sigh. “I’m here for work.”  
“You think you can beat Emerus?” Chellick asked.  
“I think I can beat you, and maybe Shepard, since she’s been distracted with carnal thoughts since you two patched things up.”  
The two of them communicated something under their subvocals, and Shepard was miffed.  
“No matter what you two mumble under your vocal chords, I’d like you to know that I don’t begrudge you second or third tier at the exam.”  
“You’re a good sport,” Celsus smiled.  
“Because I’ll be in first, and you dregs can settle the leftovers among yourselves.”  
That got their attention.  
“Dregs?”  
“Really, you think squad four can beat Emerus?”  
“ _Dregs?_ ”  
“Mhm. Sorry, lowly turians, but that’s just life. I’m heading for the stars, but you can, by prostrating at my feet, ride my coattails.” She was laying it on thick now, but they damned well deserved it for trying to keep her out of the conversation.  
“Prostrating at your feet?” Celsus said, flaring his mandibles wide open. “What sort of perversions are you two up to when you’re alone?”  
“All of them,” Chellick announced proudly and squeezed her into his arms, playfully smothering her.  
“You wish, thhuurian,” she groaned when her last air supply escaped her.  
“Okay, okay, give it a rest, the pair of you. Shepard, you promised to go over flanking tactics with me before thirex,” Celsus sighed.  
“Sorry Decian. It’s true, I’ve promised my body to another turian tonight.”  
“Ahaha. Hah.” Chellick said and gave her one last nip in the neck. “Don’t try any moves on my girl, Celsus.” He got up to leave.  
“Wouldn’t think about it. Too much, anyway.” He gave Chellick a soft thrum, and Chellick laughed when he left.  
“You really think you can get to tier one in thirex?” Celsus asked Shepard.  
“I do. I’ve been training a lot with Vakarian, and Nirea’s been with Argyle in the weight training room. Even our resident field medic is doing great, so yeah, I think I have.. that we have a good shot.”  
“You better be right. Emerus was challenging me to a wager earlier, and now I just might take him on his word.”  
“What was the bet?”  
“That nobody on this spiritsdamned station could ever hope to defeat him.”  
“Nobody? Hah. And captain Corinthus say I’m arrogant. Don’t worry Celsus. I’ll knock him off his perch.”  
That last part was perhaps a little offensive, but if Emerus had said she was no match for him, he had it coming. Thirex could not come soon enough.

 

**2174 CE – November 20 **th** – Third Examination**  
“This is it, squad four. Today we’ll put all the training and our hard work to good use. You know your squad mates, you know their strengths and weaknesses, so keep an eye out for each other in the squad-exercises. I’ve run you often enough through the obstacle course, and you’ve kept up when we’ve had marching days, so your conditioning is excellent. And it’s my firm belief, that every single one of you,” Shepard gave an encouraging nod to Garrus, “can win in the hand to hand tournament later today.”  
The squad saluted her with a resounding “Yes, sir,” and headed for the equipment check booths.

“Rousing little speech,” Emerus said behind her. “Perhaps that’ll get you in second again.”  
“Keep on telling yourself that, Emerus. When this day is over, squad 4 will rule this station.”  
Emerus laughed, and Shepard joined in. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure her squad could beat Emerus’ consistent good scores, but today she at least felt sure she wasn’t sending her people on the field with a handicap.  
“He’s here,” Emerus said in a low voice and gave a brief nod to the stands. She understood who he meant. “How could he not. He’s been on my case about the team’s nonperformance. Today I’ll rub his crest in my victory.”  
“Second place,” Emerus replied with a smug expression.  
“We’ll see, Victus.. We’ll see..”

As the hours passed, Shepard could hardly believe the score board. Squad four’s performance was outstanding, they ran fast, shot well and prevented their teammates from committing errors in the trials. It ran like a well oiled machine, and Shepard was half proud, half horrified of what turians could do when they worked as a team. Argyle as the only human on the team appeared to have seamlessly integrated into her little piece of turian war machine, and they racked up an impressive score, landing them firmly at the top before the tournament. Even Emerus looked concerned. From the corner of her eye she saw Vyrnnus sitting in the stands, but his expression never changed. He merely looked bored. There really was no pleasing some turians.  
Chellick appeared beside her. “Looks like it’ll be settled in the ring.”  
“As usual,” she said. “Emerus doesn’t seem happy.”  
Chellick chuffed a laugh. “He was getting used to life on the top. About time someone disused him of that notion.”  
“You don’t want to be on top, then?”  
“On top of who?” he replied with an innocent gaze.  
“Hey hey, shh..”  
“I know, I know,” he sighed. “Secrets upon secrets. Let’s go to the sparring rings.”

Of all the fights her team had gone through today, Shepard had dreaded none so much as the one about to start. Garrus Vakarian’s trial of fire, his first fight without a grievous injury. She knew she’d trained him hard this last month and he was physically prepared, but if he lost his mental edge he might end up losing all the same.  
“Vakarian, this is your moment. Use your reach and keep your guard up. I have high hopes in you.” She patted him on the cowl. Garrus’ eyes widened, then he snapped his mandibles to his jaws in concentration and walked into the ring with long steps. Shepard placed her hands together and pressed to her lips like in prayer. If he fucked up again, Vyrnnus would throw a fit.  
“Don’t worry, Shepard,” Mevia said beside her. “He’s not as bad as he was.”  
Shepard chuckled. “High praise from you, Mevia.”  
“He’s not as good as me, obviously, but he can manage this,” she said, following the combatants closely.  
“Yeah he can,” Strabo said, “don’t be so hard on the kid, Mevia.”  
She merely responded with a hard thrum.  
“Easy guys, focus on the fight in the ring,” Shepard interrupted before it devolved into an argument.

All of her and Garrus’ hard work had paid off. He was fast and accurate, punching past the other turian’s guard when he saw an opening, whilst keeping himself protected. As the fight went on, his opponent got more reckless, but Garrus kept his cool, becoming more self assured with each landed hit. Shepard could feel herself holding her breath, hoping desperately that he wouldn’t ruin the whole thing with one last mistake. He never did. His opponent swung wildly at him, like Garrus had done against her so many times, and he grabbed the oncoming arm and pulled the other turian down in an armlock. The judge counted down while Shepard counted in her head, and when he called in favor of Garrus, she and the entire squad roared and practically pulled Garrus over to congratulate him and pat him on the cowl. He flared his mandibles in a smile showing all his needle teeth.  
“We won,” he said in amazement. “We’re first tier.”  
“We are the best,” Aius shouted to no one in particular, and Mevia and Nirea hummed in support.  
Shepard searched for the figure of Emerus Victus, and he met her eyes with a downcast look, but still managed to smile at her. More graceful than she would have been, she reflected. Something to work on.  
“Squad four, report to the mess hall for the victory dinner,” Strabo announced, utterly pleased with himself.  
Right, the victory dinner. Tier one exam winners got special treatment from Conatix. Today it was their turn. She looked up at commander Vyrnnus seat, and he slowly shook his head at her. Damn. No dinner for her. Work and more work. What could he possibly have to complain about now?  
“Congratulations, guys, you’ve earned it,” she called to her squad.  
“You’re not coming?” Strabo looked incredulous.  
“I got some extra work I need to catch up on, but you guys should enjoy every moment of this day. It’s well deserved.”  
She picked up her bag and walked out of the arena area. Behind her Strabo cast a glance up to commander Vyrnnus, who was also leaving. The turian waggled his mandibles in puzzlement.

 

**2174 CE – November 20 **th** – Mess Hall – 19:34 PM**  
Auis grabbed the saucepan from their reserved table and started pouring the content down his throat to the loud complaints of his teammates. When he finally put it down it was empty, and he waived it around like a trophy. “To the victor, goes the spoils.”  
Argyle chuckled at the rest of the teams consternation, his levo sauce was safe and sound, and he made a point of slathering it all over his steak.  
“Fuck you, Aius you thieving bastard,” Strabo growled. “That was meant for all of us.”  
Aius was unconcerned. “Ask Argyle, I'm sure he's willing to share with a bunch of lesser beings.”  
Mivea was not in a jesting mood. “Lesser being? We all came through for the team this time, even Garrus, so why are you acting like you won this alone?”  
“What do you mean, even Garrus?!” Garrus added with an indignant tone.  
“Because I'm just better.” Aius replied with smug satisfaction.  
“Because,” Nirea said, dropping her plate on the table with a clang before she sat down, “Aius here got a date with that cheating short clawed wench in squad 1.”  
Castor chuckled. “Relax, it’s nothing to be sore about. It doesn't matter, you still won.”  
“It matters because if she's willing to rub levo compounds on her gloves against someone who's maybe highly allergic, they could end up in hospital,” she snapped.  
“I agree with Nirea,” came Garrus' voice from the end table. “You shouldn't injure your sparring partner.”

“Wow, would you listen to the turians whine.”  
They swiveled around and saw several human members from squad 3 grinning savagely at them.  
“Getting injured certainly did wonders for you guys.” Erikson said with disdain.  
“Yeah? How so?” Strabo demanded.  
“You must be joking. After this one here,” he pointed at Garrus, “finished caterwauling to the doc about how mean the humans are, his squad is suddenly assigned a senior student to train them. And then when you win, you still cry foul.”  
“We didn't ask for that.” Mevia rose from her seat at took a step towards them.  
“Oh, so tough now when they even get private lessons after class from Shepard,” Erikson quipped to one of his friends.  
Nireas browplates rose in confusion. “What? We don't-” She cut herself off when she heard a distressed clicking and saw Garrus' mandibles clamp to his jaw.  
Erikson caught it as well.  
“Oh, so it's just _Hi Ho Silver_ over there. Well, that's no wonder, considering just how much pure suckage he showed in firex.”  
Garrus leaped to his feet and charged Erikson, but Castor and Aius grabbed him and managed to wrestle him to the floor.  
“Not here, Vakarian.” Aius whispered, “Shepard will flay your plates off for brawling in the mess.”  
Erikson grinned. “At least we know Shepard didn't volunteer for bird watching. She got you good in the hospital, little dodo.”  
Garrus blinked a few times as he laid on the floor when a moment of deja-vu appeared. _‘A bird doing bird watching?’_ Where had he heard that before?  
This time it was Argyle whom jumped to his feet and in a few short strides he reached Erikson before the rest of the squad could react. He punched the taller teen straight in the nose, and when Erikson doubled up, followed with an uppercut that sent him flying backwards into the tables. Erikson's broken nose gushed blood like a fountain, and his squad mates pulled him up and out the door. The mess had cleared by the time the orderlies arrived. Aius released Garrus while muttering what squad 4 were all thinking:

“Shepard is going to blow a gasket.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has not been proofread as many times as I had hoped to, but I've been a little short on time this week. My boss still insists on overtime, but I will try to post weekly, I just can't promise it will be on Fridays anymore. Hopefully March madness will be over soon, and I can get back to my usual routine. (Until Andromeda, that is.)  
> Any mistakes, let me know :)
> 
> Oh, and swooping is bad...


	20. Defending the indefensible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard defends Argyle, while a second squad member does his best to undercut her work.

**2174 CE – November 20 th – Library – 20:15 PM**

Only Chellick’s keen ears had alerted them to the sound of an approaching turian, and when captain Corinthus rounded the last corner, Shepard and Chellick had their tongues in their own mouths and looked very busy studying. Corinthus glanced over the datapads and looked puzzled at Chellick’s presence.

“Captain,” Shepard greeted with a guarded expression.

“Shepard. I expected to find you.. unencumbered,” Corinthus said.

“Chellick is just catching up on a little reading, and I’m here most days. Can I help you?”

“Come with me. Now.” Corinthus was curt and tense.

“Uh, sure, but I have a lesson with Vyrnnus in an hour. Will this take longer?”

“Your commander has been informed that you might be late. Come!”

Shepard cast a bewildered glance at Chellick, but he was as lost as she was.

“Go, J-.. Shepard, I’ll get your things.” There was a slight twitch in his face from almost slipping up.

“Thanks, Chellick.” She got up and followed Corinthus. “What’s this about, sir?”

“An altercation in the mess involving your squad.”

Shepard balled her fists and tried to keep her voice calm. “Did they start it?”

“Hard to say. There was a verbal exchange beforehand, leading to recruit Argyle attacking a member of squad three.”

Corinthus picked up the pace, and to keep up Shepard occasionally had to break into a jog.

“Who was the recruit?”

“His name is Todd Erikson. He’s been in front of my desk before, on your orders.”

Shepard racked her brain and her memory brought up the large boy who’d knocked down Garrus about a week ago. Her jaw tensed. “The big racist. I remember him.”

“Glad to see you’re not agreeing with him,” came Corinthus voice from the front.

“Sir!” She came to a full stop.

“Yes?” The captain turned to face her.

“I’ve done plenty wrongs while on Jump Zero, but I’m no bigot! I expect those kind of accusations from Vyrnnus. Not from you.”

Corinthus stared intently at her for several seconds, then relaxed his stance. “I suppose not. I know you’re good friends with my son, and several other turians. Your actions on the start on this semester, on the other hand, told a different story.”

“I know, sir. I regret what happened, and I’m trying to make up for it. It’s.. hard to let go of certain things.” Shepard looked down.

“So it is, Shepard.” Corinthus sighed. “That’s what this place was made for. Don’t stop trying. We all have something to make up for.” He motioned her to follow again, and they hurried down officer’s alley.

 

**2174 CE – November 20 th – Captain Corinthus’ Office – 20:29 PM**

Outside the office three other people were already assembled. Argyle off course, and Erikson, now sporting a patched up nose, and the squad leader of squad three. Shepard knew him mostly from appearance, a tall muscular guy with dark curls. Earlier Shepard might’ve thought him to be gorgeous, but now she thought he lacked mandibles. Strange how fast she’d developed a preference to them. Pretty face, but the name eluded her. Thankfully Corinthus was more informed.

“Santiago. Argyle. Erikson.” He entered his office, and they poured in after him. They lined up in front of the desk, and Shepard noted that Argyle lined up on the end, next to her, but away from the other squad. Almost like he felt safe next to her, and she was struck with the realization that he hoped she would fight for him.

“Anybody want to start?” Corinthus leaned back in the chair.

Erikson stepped forward. “I would, sir,” he said with a distinct nasal tinge to his voice.

Shepard suppressed a smile. Apparently Argyle’s nose punch had hit, well, straight on the nose. Beside her Argyle moved uneasy, and she gave him a small nudge, as if to say ‘wait your turn.’ It worked, he calmed down.

“Go ahead,” Corinthus said.

“We, squad three and four, that is, had a discussion in the mess hall about the exam, sir. That one there,” he pointed at Argyle, “ran out of arguments and resorted to violence. He broke my nose, sir, and the doctor says I might have a cracked rib.” Erikson glared at Argyle, who thankfully, kept his mouth shut and waited.

“I see,” Corinthus said. “Argyle? Anything to add?”

Argyle stepped forward with gritted teeth. “Yes, sir. What that bast-.. Erikson forgot to mention, was that he wasn’t having a discussion with squad four, he was throwing racial slurs like birds and dodo, singling out Garrus Vakarian in particular. Garrus tried to get him, but was taken down by Aius and Castor. I had my hands free, and made use of them.”

Shepard closed her eyes in a silent groan. Way to go exonerating yourself, Argyle.

“You admit punching this recruit?” Corinthus said with a peculiar flange in his voice. Shepard recognized it as amusement, but it was doubtful the other humans would.

“Yes, but only after being provoked.”

“Hmm. What does your squad leaders say to this? Santiago?”

“The use of violence against one’s fellow recruits should be punished severely,” he said. “Name calling is no excuse.”

Corinthus turned to her. “Shepard?”

Next to her Argyle tensed. Shepard stepped forward.

“It’s obvious that the use of force against a fellow recruit outside training should be punished, nobody’s denying that. In the case of recruit Erikson, I have a few more details to add.”

“Indeed? Go on,” Corinthus said with interest.

“At the start of this semester, I myself was involved with a rather unfortunate case of a similar nature to this. Todd Erikson and squad three was involved in the passive acceptance of force being used against a turian, the aforementioned Garrus Vakarian of squad four. Erikson and a number of other recruits stood by as a couple of humans kicked Vakarian’s plates in.”

“You did worse,” Erikson spat from the sideline.

“Shepard is not the one in trouble today,” Corinthus said with a low growl, and Erikson backed down.

“Five days ago Vakarian and I were training in the pit, and as we were leaving, Erikson here knocked Vakarian over on purpose, thinking it would earn my approval.”

“And why didn’t you report this?” Corinthus asked.

Shepard gave a guilty cough. “I.. ahem, sir, I threatened to split his skull against the wall should it happen again. Figured he wouldn’t try it one more time.”

Argyle stared at her with big admiring eyes, and Santiago couldn’t hide the grin twitching in the corner of his mouth. Erikson on the other hand, scowled.

“Threats of violence? Really, Shepard, that’s unbecoming of a squad leader.” Corinthus’ voice was condemning, but she saw his mandibles waggle in a characteristic turian smirk.

“Yes sir. I agree sir. I mention it because it shows a pattern of racism and specieism in recruit Erikson’s actions, when one also adds in today. Of course, this is no excuse for punching him in the face,” she threw a scathing glance at Argyle, “but it is the culmination of a string of incidents that cannot be judged alone, but as parts of a whole.”

Corinthus turned to the other squad leader. “Santiago, you wish to say something?”

“I.. find myself in agreement with Shepard,” he said hesitantly. “I wasn’t fully aware of the previous incidents.”

“Well. This is going smoother than I would have guessed. Erikson, for the deliberate incitement of racism and malcontent on the station, you are hereby given two weeks of latrine duty, starting tomorrow morning. Argyle, for attacking a fellow recruit, no matter how justified you might have felt, you too are given two weeks of latrine duty. I expect those bathrooms to shine, gentlemen. As for the respective leaders of squad three and four, get some discipline into your people. Dismissed.”

 

When they stood outside, Argyle broke into a wide smile. “Wow, Shepard. Figured I’d be in deeper shit than that. A couple of weeks lavvy mopping for giving that idiot a broken nose? Bargain!”

“Glad you’re happy for a fortnight of early rises, but you’ve used up your chance now, you do know that? Any more crap and Corinthus won’t be so lenient next time.” She glanced at the omni-tool. It was 21:11. The meeting was done in 40 minutes, which meant she would have to meet Vyrnnus for practice.

“Better go tell the squad you’re still alive. I don’t doubt they think I’ll kill you and use your skin as a blanket.”

Argyle chuckled. “Nah, only Garrus and Strabo thinks that. The rest think you’ll space me out the airlock.”

Shepard pretended to mull it over. “Now there’s a thought..”

“Hey, hey.. Going now,” he said quickly and hurried towards the barracks.

Shepard shook her head and smiled before heading to the training field.

 

**2174 CE – November 20 th – Locker Room – 21:20 PM**

Garrus had just got dried and dressed when the door slammed and someone marched in, swearing loudly. He peeked over his locker, and was greeted with the furious face of Todd Erikson.

“Great, the bird,” Erikson scoffed. “Just what I wanted to see.”

“I’m not too fond of monkeys either,” Garrus said and started to pack his things onto the locker shelves. Erikson punched the small metal door in front of him.

“Fuck you! It’s a disgrace, you of all birdmen being allowed in human space. Yeah, I know who you are. Son of the executioner of the Citadel.” The human was beside himself.

“Executor of the Citadel. Want me to spell I for you?” Garrus couldn't help himself.

“Oh, he got jokes. The son of a mass murderer got jokes,” Erikson retorted. “Tell me, bird, do your family hold a celebration each year, toasting to all the thousands of civillians your daddy burned to a crisp on earth?”

For the first time since Erikson started mouthing off, Garrus felt uncertain. What was he referring to?

“If you mean Shepard's father, he was a soldier. Many soldiers die in war.”

“Shepard’s father? He was just one of many. I’m talking about the underground strike on a war shelter for civilians. Almost 20 thousand dead. Women, children and people to old and sick to fight. Murdered by your asshole father. I bet he laughed when they burned.”

Garrus could almost sense the temperature in his veins drop. This must be a lie. His father would never kill civilians. He always obeyed the rules, always looked for evidence and proof. There was no way he was a killer.

“You lie,” he whispered under his breath.

“Lie? Hah! The truth is on the extranet, everyone can see it. But perhaps daddy won’t let his son see such nasty things, you cracked egg. After what your family did to our planet, I don’t get why Shepard bothers to protect you. Must’ve been some punishment to get her to agree on that.”

Garrus tried to remember something that would contradict Erikson’s words, but to no avail. His mother had cautioned against asking Galenus about the war, and the only times he heard it mentioned was when his father had partaken of too much horosk, and let a few words slip. It was mostly about the loss of his platoon, and meeting the other Shepard, but sometimes he talked about massive losses and regret. Garrus always assumed it was in regard to turian forces, but if Erikson was telling the truth.. No! It was impossible. His father was a paragon of justice. Garrus rasped his talons against each other, a subconscious attempt to calm the blistering rage that was growing inside of him.

“You lie!” he repeated with more force behind his words.

“No lies, bird. You are the offspring of a mass murderer, and will become one yourself. It would’ve been better if your kind were drowned at birth.”

“LIES!” Garrus leaped at Erikson and swiped his talons at the boy’s face.

 

**2174 CE – November 20 th – Training Field – 22:31 PM**

The two of them stood panting on opposite sides of the mid line. Shepard was as usual bleeding from several slashes, but they were significantly fewer than they had been three months ago, or even one month ago. Vyrnnus was watching her with a sarcastic smirk. “I see some of our lessons have taken root, Shepard. Too bad you have lesser control over your squad than you now do over your body.”

Shepard said nothing. There was no point in pissing him off.

“And a human at that. I would have thought it would be that high tier runt that would dishonor you.”

“Corinthus dealt with it,” she said at last. “They’re his responsibility.”

“Wrong!” In five strides he was in her face. “Your team, your people, your fault! If they break the command structure, break them.”

Shepard resisted the urge to flee, but met his gleaming eyes with her own stare. “No. Not all broken things can be mended or rebuilt.”

“Trash,” Vyrnnus sneered and towered above her. “To be cast out with the rest of the garbage.”

“Callous way of thinking,” she ventured.

“The only way of survival, Shepard.” He grabbed her arm and twisted it around to check her new wounds. “I think we’re about done with the physical aspect of becoming a turian. Time to learn to obey orders. And maybe you’ll learn how to control those pups under you.”

 

“Shepard? Shepard!”

A sound of running boots approached, and Vyrnnus pointed to her backpack and shoved her in that direction. She got the hint and ran to hurriedly change clothes.

“What, boy?” he snarled to the shouting recruit. “A little late for you to be out here, without permission.”

It was Castor, and he was visibly stressed. “Captain Corinthus summons Shepard, right now,” he said, out of breath. “I’ve searched almost everywhere for her.”

Shepard quickly slathered some medigel on the worst wounds while Vyrnnus was distracting Castor, then pulled a Conatix hoodie over her head. Had he changed his mind? Was Argyle in more trouble? She strolled up to greet him.

“Hello, Castor. What is it this time? Argyle pushed Erikson down a flight of stairs?”

“No, it’s not Argyle, it’s Garrus. He attacked Erikson in the locker room. There was a lot of blood, still lingers in my nose.”

Vyrnnus chuffed, and the sound of his laughter made Shepard wince.

“So, the runt did decide to shame you all on your day of victory. Impressive. I think I better come along for this one. Lead the way,” he said to Castor, and the trio, led by Castor, made their way to an assembly room in officer’s alley.

 

Castor was ordered to leave as Vyrnnus and Shepard walked into the assembly room. Both Erikson and Garrus were already present, as was Santiago and Corinthus. Erikson’s face and chest were bloodied and haphazardly bandaged, Garrus had a swollen eye and a mandible taped to his face. Must’ve been some fight, Shepard caught herself thinking. Wonder who won.

“Hello Shepard. I had hoped we’d be done for the day, but as you can see, there has been another incident.” Corinthus glared at Vyrnnus when he walked in behind Shepard. “There’s no reason for you to be here, commander. It’s _not your place_.”

Vyrnnus smiled his condescending smile. “The regular recruits aren’t my concern, no. But this one here,” he placed his hand on Shepard’s shoulder and squeezed, “is my problem.”

Shepard tensed like a wound spring, and had problems stopping her besieged arm from trembling. She had to grab the side of her suit to avoid it being obvious. She noted Garrus’ curious flick of his one good mandible, then he focused on Vyrnnus’ face and tensed like she had. Did they know each other?

“It’s really not necessary,” Corinthus said, straining to sound polite. “But if Shepard wishes it..”

She felt three talons dig into her shoulder.

“I would not mind the commander’s presence,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even.

“There! You see? I’m always welcome among my students. Whenever you are ready, captain.”

They all took a seat around the table.

“This is a very serious matter, and I cannot stress enough the grave implications for everyone involved in this,” Corinthus began. “Here we have two students with a history of enmity towards each other, now culminating in a deadly locker room fist fight. You could have settled these differences in the ring, but instead you chose to fight alone, without rules and regulations. Do you have anything to say in your defense?”

It was unsurprisingly Erikson that spoke first. “I was attacked and had to defend myself. The turian went mad, he tried to kill me!”

Shepard tried to read the expression on Garrus face, but he avoided her eyes and stared down on the table.

“Vakarian? What is your explanation?” Corinthus would brook no sulking.

“The human insulted my family. Said my dad is a mass murderer, and that turians should all be killed.” Garrus’s voice was low and flat.

“Especially your family of psychos,” Erikson hissed, his bandages almost coming loose.

“Enough! You were let off with a minor punishment earlier, Erikson, you’re not garnering any sympathy for your plight with that talk. You were given a chance and you misused it. And as for you, Vakarian, those were just words. Hurtful words, to be sure, but you should have taken that up through proper channels, or lodged a complaint. Instead you used talon strikes against an unarmed opponent. As it is, I must consider expulsion for both of you.”

At this point Vyrnnus leaned in and whispered in Shepard’s ear. “If the runt fails, you fail. Let’s see what you can do.”

Shepard froze for a second, then scanned her brain for options. Santiago was not about to challenge Corinthus’ decision, but she had to, or Corinthus would expel them for sure. The deliberation part was just protocol.

“Sir, I have an objection to your course of action,” she said aloud. Vyrnnus made himself comfortable on his chair and said or did something with his subvocals that made both Corinthus and Garrus stare at him.

“Very well, Shepard. Let us hear,” Corinthus said when he pulled his eyes from the commander.

“I think we should call in the station board of directors,” Shepard said. “This is an incident on par with my first meeting with Vakarian, and of a similar explosive political nature. Nobody wants the ghost of the relay incident to darken the reputation of this program. Nor is it a good idea to remind neither the turian nor the human side of the metro incident of 2157. Those wounds are not healed, and ripping up in them now, considering Vakarian’s family history, would be detrimental to what we’re trying to achieve here.”

The robotic tone of her voice as she droned on should have made Corinthus suspicious, but he could barely wrap his head around the message she was spouting. On her left, Vyrnnus was smiling his most contented smile. Garrus looked betrayed, and Corinthus looked confused. He got up and stalked around the room. Vyrnnus touched her arm again and Shepard felt her skin break out in goosebumps. Another involuntary shudder ran through her body.

“Well played,” he whispered to her and made some swipes on his omni-tool.

“You want to assemble the board?” Corinthus said after pacing for several minutes.

“Yes, sir.”

“For this?”

“Yes, sir.”

Corinthus shook his head. “No, Shepard. This is not a case for them.”

“Too bad the board disagrees with you, Corinthus. Again.” Vyrnnus smirked. “They’re calling an emergency meeting right now.”

“At who’s request?!” Corinthus growled.

“Mine. I have a considerable amount of goodwill among the members, since I’ve been able to rein in my little rebel.” He patted Shepard like a pet varren, and this time she could not hide her revulsion. Corinthus opened his mouth to speak, when he saw Shepard’s pleading eyes. He shut it again. “Very well. There’s no need for the rest of you to stay. I will alert you of the board’s decision tomorrow. You, however,” he pointed a talon at Shepard, “will convey your opinions to the board. Come along.”

“And me,” Vyrnnus added cheerfully.

“Could wild nathaks stop you?” Corinthus replied sourly.

“I doubt it, but they’re welcome to try.”

 

**2174 CE – November 21 st – Corinthus’ Office – 06:10 AM**

Garrus and Erikson stood at attention in front of captain Corinthus desk. The captain had dull plates and looked tired, like someone having been up all night. Garrus hadn’t been able to sleep much either, but lay awake, thinking about what Shepard was going to say at the board meeting. Her words yesterday left much to the imagination. Perhaps he was to be sacrificed in favor of Erikson. If that was the case, he could say goodbye to his hopes of becoming a Spectre. Maybe a low position in the army, and no advancement for the next 30 years. His father would be fuming, his only son having thrown away his future on a foolish fight. On his left, Erikson seemed to be thinking along the same lines. He did not look happy.

“Morning, boys.” Captain Corinthus looked out of the window and not straight at them.

“Good morning, sir,” both boys said automatically.

Corinthus chuffed mirthlessly. “Depends what you mean by good.” He turned around slowly. “Neither of you will be expelled. Erikson will be on latrine duty until the field exam.”

Erikson turned red. “That’s three months away. How am I going to sleep and train?”

“Should have thought about that before provoking another fight,” Corinthus cut him off. He was in no mood for complaints. “And you, Vakarian, will get three months of station maintenance shifts. We already have two on bathroom duty, and it was not considered wise to have the two of you working in tandem.”

It was Garrus turn to protest. “That’s.. not fair. They often have duty during meal times. I’m on my last growth spurt, when will I eat?”

“Make do!” Corinthus snarled. “The pair of you should be glad you’re not on the first shuttle out of here, but because of _politics_ ,” he spat the word, “you’re allowed to stay. I don’t like it, but orders are orders. Erikson, you have a whole section of toilets to scrub before breakfast, I suggest you get moving. And you, Vakarian, report to the maintenance crew after training.”

Both Garrus and Erikson saluted stiffly, then marched out. They exchanged angry looks, but neither was willing to risk Corinthus wrath one more time. Garrus had no clue as to what had happened during the board meeting, but he was sure Corinthus would never have expelled him anyway, and now Shepard had landed him in a pile of krogan dung. He did a quick calculation in his head. It was over four weeks since he last spoke with his family on the station line, and would be about four weeks until next time. This time he would not heed his mother’s advice, his father was going to tell him the truth. Corinthus hadn’t corrected Erikson’s statement on Galenus Vakarian being a mass murderer, he merely said the comment was hurtful, nothing more. Shepard mentioned a metro incident, which probably had caused her father’s death. Until he knew the whole history, he would be a good turian and do what he was told, even if it killed him. Afterwards, well.. That would depend on the truth.

 

**2174 CE – November 26 th – Shooting Range – 16:35 PM**

The days since her second meeting with the board had been thoroughly unpleasant for everyone on squad four, Shepard included. Garrus was convinced she had orchestrated his punishment and lack of hot meals every night, and the rest of the squad was torn between the comradeship they felt to Garrus and disgust for his actions. Garrus’ accusations also put a strain on the growing respect they felt for her. Argyle was firmly in her camp, having related his encounter in Corinthus’ office several times, but the turians were still wary. What Shepard knew, and they didn’t, was that Corinthus was a real stickler for his own code of conduct. If you fucked up your second chance or committed grave misdeeds, he was more than willing to throw people out. And now she had twice defied his wishes. She doubted even Vyrnnus could save her again if she got on the captain’s bad side one more time.

Perhaps the squad would come around eventually. Garrus she now considered a lost cause. Every day at the end of training he disappeared, and she’d been told by Celsus that he hadn’t been around for meal times the last five days. The necessity of food theft was familiar to her, but she doubted he’d accept anything from her at this point. She continued her reflections while checking her rifle, before she was interrupted by a small cough behind her. She turned around.

“Yes? Can I help you three?”

Strabo, Nirea and Castor looked like they were poking at a bear with a sharp stick.

“Shepard, we need to talk. About Garrus.”

She put the rifle down to not appear too aggressive. “What about Vakarian?”

“He’s not eating. He refuses to take what we smuggle out of the mess, saying Corinthus ordered him to make do.” Strabo clacked his mandibles to his face, but she got the impression he wasn’t only angry with her.

“I see. The captain did say that, but I doubt he meant for Vakarian to starve,” she said slowly. “It’s only for three months, can he live on breakfast and rations until then?”

“A grown turian might,” Castor said, “but Garrus is in his last growth spurt. Our food makes sure we get what we need to develop our bones and external cartilage. He might not achieve his full height, or his fringe might be..short..” Castor stopped himself.

Shepard felt a headache coming on that had nothing to do with her implant. Turians and turian problems. How had they completely taken over her life?

“So, what you’re saying is, if I don’t find a way to feed Vakarian, he might become a turian midget?”

“Uhm, if you mean he might be shorter than others his age, that’s correct,” Nirea said. “We believe you will help.”

Shepard figured it was time for a moment of truth. “Do you three also believe I tried to get Vakarian booted off the station?”

There was an uncomfortable silence and much shuffling of talon feet. When Strabo stepped forward, Shepard was nonplussed. He was not her greatest fan, not by a long shot.

“I don’t think that. I did at first, but.. It doesn’t make any sense. Corinthus would have expelled both of them anyway, regardless of what Garrus thinks. Then you call for the board, and Garrus gets a hefty punishment, like you did with us,” he gestured to himself and the other two, “yeah, we know about that. But he got to stay. So did that cloaca Erikson.”

“Yeah, what did you say to them?” Nirea asked with a careful smile.

“I.. I said the same things that were said at my board own meeting.”

“Which was?” Castor’s question was sneakily off-handed.

“That nosy turians will be made to run five laps, Sorio. Look guys, I know you might be curious, but don’t pry into this affair. It won’t help anyone.”

They gave affirming grunts, but she had a feeling they weren’t entirely honest. No matter. She would have done the same thing.

“I’ll see what I can do about Vakarian’s diet, okay? Move along, guys, much to do.”

 

**2174 CE – November 26 th – Mess kitchen – 17:03 PM**

To venture into the kitchen area of Miller, the head chef, was always a daunting task. Not only was he the most territorial man she’d ever come across, she also vividly remembered his naked ass bouncing up and down between that security guards legs. A sight to make eyes sore.

“What are you doing here, rookie? Get out, dinner is not ready!” he barked at her from behind the counter.

“Hello, chef Miller. I was wondering if I could ask a favor?” she asked politely.

Miller waved a spatula in the air. “Let me guess, you want food served outside meal time? I’ll tell you what I tell all the officers around here, I’m the boss in this mess. My word is law. I have the last say in all nutriments on this station, do you hear me? And no, you can’t! Would that be all?” he said in a tone that wanted her gone.

Shepard broke into a huge grin and a devil may care feeling seized her entire being. If that’s how he wanted to play, she would serve him up good. She leaned on the counter and said in a conspiratorial manner:“My my, you are the big man in the kitchen. Tell me, did you ever find out who has the biggest cock on the station?”

Miller’s spatula fell limp from his hand. “What?”

Shepard gave him a lopsided grin. “It’s just, I happened to walk by this mess once, and _‘someone,’_ ” Shepard made air quotes to the chef, “was making some rather large claims to a woman on a table in here. I thought the whole thing rather unhygienic, but live and let live, I say. Now, about my favor...”

“You can’t tell Conatix,” he croaked, “I’ll loose my job.”

“My favor,” she repeated with a sharper tone, “is that I want a full turian hot meal prepared for one of my squad when he comes late off maintenance duty. Every night up to and including 20th of February. Do we have a deal?”

“That’s three goddamned months, you little jackal!”

“It’s a bit of a bugger, I agree, but not like getting rammed by a bull or something. Doesn’t that image fill your ...head _real good_ with ideas?”

The chef looked like he was about to faint. “You… you...”

“Yeah yeah. Turian meal. Three months. Deal or no deal? And if I ever catch you spitting in my food, Conatix will have the whole thing on vid.” The lie rolled so easily off her tongue.

Her last comment seemed to release some sort of remaining work pride in the man. “I don’t soil the food I make.”

“No, only the tables you serve it on. Do. We. Have. A. Deal?”

Miller stared at her with utter loathing. “We do. Did you want something else? Truffles? Caviar? Champagne?”

“I got what I came for,” she replied and sauntered out, still smiling from ear to ear. Blackmail shouldn’t be this fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I just broke 100 000 words! And I made the Friday deadline, but now I have to work in the weekend and major overtime next week, so I know I'll be delayed in posting chapter 21. Still, hang in there, exciting things to come. :)


	21. When the cat's away..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard tries to console her squad in their time of need, while also attending a few needs of her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little NSFW.. ahem.. a whole lot NSFW, but in a fun way :)

**2174 CE – November 27 th – Breakfast 07:32 AM**

“When I asked him who had the biggest dick on the station I thought he was going to have a seizure,” Shepard laughed. Emerus and Celsus chuffed along with her, while Chellick was changing between a worried smile and a frown.

“That was a big risk to take, Shepard. What if he reported you for extortion?”

“Extorting him for food? Really, you are the pride of the Hierarchy, Chellick,” she said with a fond smile.

“You could get in trouble just by breathing,” Chellick muttered to the guffaws of their friends.

“The thing I want to know,” Arista said with a flash of teeth, “is why you didn’t use this information to get warm food for yourself.”

The other turians went as silent as Shepard went blank. After a long moment of afterthought, Shepard realized it never occurred to her before she had to provide for someone else. And that someone being the future garden gnome of Palaven.

“Nooo,” she said aghast, “Gods, I’m going to pretend you never said that. Fuck, I’m so _stupid!_ ”

The laughter resumed, and now at her expense.

“I knew you had a soft spot for turians, but that guy? Looks like competition, Chellick,” Emerus flicked a mandible at his friend.

“Looks like it,” Chellick replied with a feigned sigh. “Humans are insatiable.”

“Turians can’t keep up, you mean,” Shepard retorted back with a wink.

“Speaking of which,” Chellick said in a casual tone, “isn’t your commander due for another off-world trip soon?”

“He is. Celsus and I are planning a little intimate party,” Shepard said equally casual.

“So true,” Celsus confirmed, “I’m afraid I’ll be quite worn out.”

Chellick almost choked on the water he was drinking, and stared accusingly at the pair.

“Not funny. Shepard, tell me that’s not true.”

“It could be true.”

“Is it?”

“You know the old theory about the multiverses? Somewhere it’s true.”

“I should push you out the airlock,” Chellick said, exasperated.

“You should, but then you’d have to sniff Emerus’ fringe.”

“Whoa whoa, don’t you mean, my fringe? As in ‘that fringe belongs to me?” Arista growled playfully.

“Hey, I’m not your plaything.” Emerus looked offended until he saw the smiling face of Arista and had a quick change of heart. “Okay, I am. Do with me as you please.”

“I will,” she said and nipped at his neck.

“Will you four cut that out? I have no neck to nibble on, and you guys shoving your happiness in my face is bad enough.” Celsus slammed down his cup and looked away.

“Sorry Celsus.” Arista gave Emerus a raised browplate. He nodded discreetly, and gave Celsus a small poke.

“You know, you could join us tonight, if you wanted?”

“Don’t even joke about it.”

“We’re serious. If Chellick weren’t so selfish, we might even lure Shepard with us as well.”

“No!” Chellick exclaimed, then looked nervously at Shepard. “No?”

She smiled at him. “Nah, I got you.”

“Then no. So hah!”

“Just the three of us then. Celsus?” Arista gave him a smoldering stare.

Celsus um’ed and ah’ed his way into a confirmation, making Shepard suspect he’d carried a small torch for Arista a long time. She had to ask Chellick about that later. Thankfully none of them were talking about sex when Aius ran up to their table.

“Shepard, you need to see this, Castor is regurgitating all his food. We think he might be sick.”

“Gods,” she groaned and got up.

“Good luck,” Chellick called out as she trotted after Aius.

 

**2174 CE – December 3 rd – Sick bay 10:00 AM**

“You look really adorable with that purple bonnet on your head,” Argyle said, pretending to swoon over Mevia. The turian version of flu was sweeping the station, and only Shepard and Argyle by virtue of being humans could freely mingle with sick squad members. The sickness was relatively benign but highly contagious, and teammates that showed any symptoms had been quarantined. Only Garrus and Nirea remained healthy, and they were currently down the hall for immunoboosters to keep it that way.

“Spirits damn you, human,” Mevia croaked from her bed. “When I get well, I’ll tan your hide for this.”

Beside her, Strabo tried to laugh, but it came out as a gurgle, and he almost threw up again.

Castor, who’d become ill first, was on the mend and sat up, trying to read on a datapad, but the sick turians around them was distracting him from homework. Aius was half asleep, only opening his eyes if a sudden need to sneeze or vomit overcame him. Outside the sickbay quarantine area they heard the environmental sterilization sluice activate, and moments later Shepard stepped in.

“Hello Four. Aren’t you guys a sorry sight,” she smiled and put down a bag she had slung over her shoulder.”

“Haha. Here I thought you were beginning to like us,” Strabo said, trying to joke.

“Not a chance. But, since I’m such a warm and caring person, happy unification day to you.” Shepard pulled out a slew of assorted snacks and treats, all purchased with the tokens she’d fleeced from her turian friends by betting. Perhaps they’d get wise some day.

“Now, I know you might not be able to keep these down, but that’s not the point. When you’re sick, you should have something to keep your spirits up.”

Shepard was suddenly aware that they were all staring at her, even Aius had woken from his slumber to gawk.

“Did I say the wrong thing? Mentioning spirits? It’s just an old human expression, I didn’t mean to insult your heritage or anything..”

They still said nothing, and being stared down by four stunned turians and one puzzled human was unnerving.

“Guys, come on. Tell me what I did wrong.”

Castor, the mediator on the squad opened his mouth first. “We.. we didn’t think you’d know about today”.

“You didn’t have to, really,” Mevia said from the bed. “It’s not how we celebrate unification day.”

“But I wanted to,” Shepard replied firmly. “I’ll leave the bag here, take what you want and leave what you don’t. Just get better, all right? Almost every squad has some sick turians, so we’re not out of the running for fourex. I’ll come by later to check on you.” She motioned Argyle to follow, and they stepped into the sluice and activated the sterilization process.

 

“ _You didn’t have to, really_?” Strabo mimicked Mevia. “Now she thinks we hate her. Well done.”

“I think like the bringer of snacks,” Aius grumbled from his bed. “Castor, can you get some for me?”

“Hey, you all thought the same thing, don’t pin this on me,” Mevia protested.

“Wow, digerisian chocolate? Aren’t these your favourite, Aius,” Castor said while rummaging the bag.

“Ooh, from my homeworld? Gimme gimme,” Aius said with a hopeful, yet tired smile.

“Too bad,” Castor said and chomped down the chocolate bar to Aius whining accompaniment.

“Noooo.. Whyy?” Aius was the picture of sadness.

From their beds, Mevia and Strabo was straining with hoarse laughter.

“That’s for stealing all the sauce during our victory dinner, you thief,” Castor said and crossed his arms.

“Castor, I never thought you could be this cruel,” Aius said meekly. “I’m sick, I can’t take much more abuse.”

“Well done Castor,” Mevia said. “Serves him right.”

“Cruel fates,” Aius whinged. He dropped back on the bed and curled into a ball.

“Hope you learned something from this,” Castor chuffed and tossed another chocolate bar on Aius. “Next time you steal from all of us we’ll force you to eat in the hallway.”

Someone from the neighboring beds cast beady eyes in their direction. “Hey, squad four has treats,” one of them shouted.

“Forget it, they’re all ours. Get your own turian friendly squad leader, Cassius,” Castor called back.

“Are you talking about Shepard? She gives out treats? You must be huffing red sand, Castor!”

“Starve for all we care,” Mevia’s shrill flanging voice cut through the din. “It’s ours!”

“The palaveni dried scarabs are mine,” she muttered to Castor, whom handed them over with a grin.

 

**2174 CE – December 3 rd – Shooting Range – 13:45 PM**

“Another ten. You’re cleaning up today, Vakarian.” Shepard glanced over to the second of her last standing squad members. He’d been obedient and quiet ever since their meeting with Corinthus, and the absence of bitterness he showed while she was in his presence disturbed her, especially since she knew he vented about her to the others.

“Thanks, Shepard.”

“I guess we’re lucky that you two aren’t sick, would’ve been worse if every turian on this team was down.

“Yes, Shepard.”

It was like talking to an emotionless robot. Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose, then gave Nirea an encouraging smile. The female turian gave a small nod. The understanding between her, Nirea, Castor and Strabo was making Garrus believe that they were the ones that had fixed so he would get food after late shifts with the repair crew, and so far it worked.

Their turn was up, and since they were done early and Garrus had one hour of rest before he had to attend his other duties, he left to to some maintenance on his rifle. Shepard used the opportunity to call Nirea back.

“Happy unification day, Nirea. Is that how you say it? I got our malingerers some treats in commemoration, so you and Garrus should too. The thing is..”

“that he won’t accept gifts from you, and you want me to pretend it’s from me?” Nirea smiled.

“From you, or the squad, or you found it laying around. Whatever works best,” Shepard said and handed over a small satchel.

“I will. Thank you, Shepard. It’s really thoughtful.” Nirea shifted her weight from one leg to the other, and Shepard held her breath, awaiting a new crisis.

“Do you think we stand a chance in fourex?” The worried look on Nirea’s face was the only thing that kept Shepard from smiling. She exhaled. No crisis, just school.

“I think we stand a fair chance. Pretty much all the team has been crippled by this,” she said. “Emerus’ squad is our biggest opponent, and he’s the last turian still standing on his team.”

“But Celsus Corinthus has a mostly human squad,” Nirea persisted.

“No worries, we’ll do fine. Castor is already on the mend, and the rest can’t be far behind.”

“I hope so.” Nirea lifted the satchel and thanked her again. As Nirea left, Shepard realized she had the whole afternoon to herself, and went to find her boyfriend for some much needed intimacy.

 

**2174 CE – December 3 rd – Armory – 14:10 PM**

“Hey Garrus, I got us some treats in celebration of the day,” Nirea smiled at him.

He looked up from his rifle and gave her a confused look. “Why? That’s not tradition.”

“Come on, don’t be like that. You should be glad someone’s still talking to you after what you did,” Nirea replied and tossed a small bag over to him.

“Glad? I almost got thrown off the station by those racist humans again, and I’m supposed to be glad?”

“Garrus Vakarian, it was you who almost tore that boy’s face off. I don’t care what he said, your actions put all of us in a bad light.”

“Give it a rest, Nirea. I got that ‘don’t hurt your fellow recruits’ speech from Castor already. And Strabo. And Mevia yelled at me. Aius ignores me.” He closed his mandibles. “It’s not fair.”

“Garrus, you need to take responsibility for what you did, not blame everyone else.” Nirea was not unsympathetic to him, but Garrus was trying her patience, even if she knew more than he did.

“Like Shepard? She gets away with everything, and I have to take the fall?”

“Don’t talk nonsense, Garrus.”

“Don’t patronize me! I know who Vyrnnus is! He’s the turian that threatened to have thrown out of here unless I lied about how I got attacked. Turn out he’s Shepard’s master! He was practically fawning over her, and humming insults at me and the captain!” Garrus was shouting at the top of his lungs now.

Nirea wanted to answer back with what she knew about his close encounter with expulsion, but their squad leader would not appreciate her spilling the truth, for whatever reason. Instead she closed the conversation with an angry thrum, signaling the end of argument.

“Whatever,” Garrus said and sat down petulantly. “In three weeks I’ll talk to my dad, and the truth will come out.”

“What truth,” Nirea asked despite herself.

“You didn’t want to talk anymore, and I have things to do.” He packed away his rifle and cleaning items and left for his shift. Nirea noted that he also took the little bag of sweets despite their fight. The growing turian would probably be hungry before the end of shift, and the kheelie jerky would help, no matter how much he wanted to sulk.

 

**2174 CE – December 12 th – Shower – 20:05 PM**

“How is this being discreet? It’s early.” Shepard raised an eyebrow at Chellick’s explanations.

“Everyone is still at dinner. Pretty much everyone had to shower after the march anyway, and now we’ll have the whole place to ourselves for a while.”

“You dragged me out of dinner early to have your way with me in the shower? Lurid turian.”

“Not just any turian, your turian boyfriend, and this is one of the rare times when that lunatic commander is off-station. Come on, you know you want this.” He grinned and stretched out, showing his polished plates and narrow waist. The little sneak was right, she thought, she did want him. Badly.

“All right,” she sighed, “I’ll make the sacrifice.”

Chellick scooped her into his arms and kissed her fervently, whispering “I’ll give you sacrifice, human.”

She dug her nails into his waist and started kneading the hide. His reaction was instant, his breath became ragged, but he pried her hands away. “Not like that,” he panted. “I have a plan.”

He frog-marched her into the inner shower stall, and turned her to face the wall.

“I once saw you do a split to avoid a high kick from Arista. Time to see how flexible you really are.”

“Decian, sweetheart, it’s not like humans don’t have sex in the shower, we don’t do it in front of an audience.”

“Careful Jane, or I might not share this with you.” He pushed up against her hips and started slide his cock between her thighs. She instantly arched against him and tried to place her hands on his hips from behind.

“I told you, not like that,” he chuckled. “Like this.” Chellick took her hands and placed one on the top of the stall wall and one on the metal beam holding the shower head. “Hold on.” He gently shoved her legs apart and let one hand slide between her folds while he kept up the agonizing slow grind from behind. Against her back she felt the vibrating hum coming from his chest, and with his warm tongue playing with her neck, it didn’t take long before she needed much more than his fingers.

“Mmh, not that I don’t adore all this attention, it’s not really all that difficult, standing here and letting you do all the work.” Shepard turned her head so she could kiss him, and he was more than happy to oblige. “This is merely warm up, Jane. Are you ready for me?”

“Very ready.”

“All right, give me ten seconds.” He extracted himself from her and she heard the small rip from a condom wrapper, then he was at her back again. “Bend a little forward for he,” he groaned, and she did, letting him catch an eyeful of his prize. “Spirits,” she heard behind her, then his talons was at her hips and he slowly guided himself into her. Shepard closed her eyes and enjoyed his first careful thrusts. His cock was already swelling to fill her, and she held on to her designated handles, expecting a thorough fucking to commence at any moment. The wait was delicious.

“That was the first step,” she heard Chellick behind her.

Clearly, this was not going where she wanted it to go.

“First step? Decian, if the second step is not you pounding your girlfriend until she can hardly stand, I’m going back to dinner.”

He chuffed at the irritability in her voice. “Soon, soon. Are you holding on?”

“Yes, but I haven’t seen any reason to stay moored to this stall yet,” she teased.

“You will. Keep holding,” he said and turned on the shower. He then placed one hand around her waist, and maneuvered her so he could pull up her leg with the other hand.

“Whoa whoa, what are you-..”

“I told you to hold on.” Chellick hitched her leg behind one of his spurs, then switched arms and tried to pick up her other leg. “Humans get so slippery in water.” His intent was becoming obvious.

“Oh, I get it. Ambitious, are we? Trapping the poor human between the wall and your spurs and having your way with her?”

“I don’t hear any protests,” he hummed.

“Nor will you. Wait, let me change grip,” she said and got hold higher up on the pipe. It made it easier to help him lift her other leg up, and he now had her hanging off the wall with both legs trapped in his leg spurs while he was fully sheathed inside her.

The absurdity of the situation should have made it too funny to be sexy, but she felt her pussy throb in anticipation of being fucked like this. “Decian, please, I can’t hang here forever.”

“Please what, Jane?”

Great, now he was making her beg too. “Just do it, okay?”

“Do what,” he purred.

“I hate you,” she muttered. “Please, would you just _fuck_ me?” The ‘fuck’ was spoken in almost inaudible tones under the falling water, but he heard her perfectly.

“Pretending you don’t want this, Jane? Never took you for the shy type,” he grinned and gave her a few deep thrusts, and was rewarded with a small moan from her.

“Just tell me you want this,” he said, and there was a pleading twang in his subvocals now.

“I want you, Decian. Now please..”

“Anything for you, Jane,” he said with relief, and started moving in and out of her in a slow pace.

Her arms were still not feeling the strain, instead she let herself savor the slow rhythm he was setting, the touch of his blunt talons gently tracing over her skin. The feeling of oncoming euphoria lasted until she heard “oh no” behind her, followed by a scraping sound. She opened her eyes and saw they were both slowly gliding backwards. The angle of her pushing against the wall for support and him so close under her to fill her entirely was causing them to shift away from said wall. The scraping sound was the talons on his feet, desperately scratching for purchase. “Uh, I wasn’t thinking of how slippery the tiles would get,” he panted in her ear. “Spirits, don’t try to jump off, you’ll break my spurs.”

Their slide came to a halt when his talons caught on the grout lines between the tiles.

“Thank the spirits for that. Do you want to.. uh.. stop?”

“Decian, don’t you fucking dare. I thought turians were hard workers, now you can’t even finish the job?” She turned her head and winked at him.

“You’ll regret those words, I swear,” he grunted and hilted inside her again.

 

Chellick started fucking her in earnest, and as the sounds of her soft whimpers and his flanging groans filled their stall, there was another sound gaining in intensity in their immediate vicinity; The mournful creak of a hinge reaching the end of it’s lifetime. The cascading water, sounds of pleasure and the rhythmic slap of plates on flesh dulled it, but it was increasing in decibel by every thrust from the eager turian. As the pair was about to reach their inevitable climax, the hinge gave one last squeak and snapped with a metallic ping. The wall Shepard counted on for support gave in, and the sudden shift in balance in addition to the far-gone turian still ramming her from behind made Shepard lurch forward and cling solely to the shower pipe instead. The pleasure of being fucked by her boyfriend while they wrecked the surrounding area was like a thrilling high, until the sound of another piece of groaning metal warned of impending collapse in front of her.

“Decian, hold up, the pipe-..” she began, but it was too late. The lone beam could not hold hers and Chellick’s combined weight and snapped from it’s fasteners, dragging with it the shower head and bringing the double branch pipes for hot and cold water with it. The water now gushed everywhere, and Chellick, having recovered some blood to his brain, pulled Shepard away from the hot spray and covered her with his body. The momentum, coupled with the slippery surface of the bathroom tiles threw them back into the already struggling stall wall, which at this point gave up in face of the newest onslaught, slowly toppling them over onto the next stall, then the next, and so on. The effect was much like dominoes. After the last of the metaphorical dust had settled, Chellick was still hanging on to Shepard, but they were both sprawled on the floor under pieces of stalls and the occasional spray of steaming water.

“Ow,” Shepard moaned and carefully pulled one leg away from Chellick’s upturned leg spur.

“Spirits, we are in so much trouble.” Chellick clicked his mandibles in horror.

“We need to get out of here,” Shepard groaned again and untangled her last leg from under her boyfriend.

“Spirits, we are going to be exposed. And expelled” Chellick was not listening to a word she was saying.

“Hey. The spirits are not going to get us out of this. We are. We’ll get up, find that condom and escape with a fraction of our dignity intact.”

“We broke everything. The right procedure is to report ourselves to our superiors.”

An image of confessing this whole debacle to Vyrnnus flew across her mind’s eye, and she winced. “Not a chance. Now get up, and let’s get out of here.”

“It’s not honorable,” Chellick insisted.

Shepard looked at him like he was crazy. The poor turian appeared to be in shock. Shepard had no time for that, she could nurse his wounded psyche later.

“Do you want me to get thrown out of the program, Decian? Because that’s what’s going to happen if anyone finds out I’m screwing a turian in the station showers.”

“No.. no..I don’t.. I don’t know, this isn’t right, this isn’t right,” he wailed.

She sighed. “Come here now. Let’s just make our escape now, and if things get complicated later we’ll deal with it then, okay?”

“..I..okay..” Chellick calmed down enough for her to help him up and look over the damage. She was already showing bruises from having a turian landing on her, but no splinters from the stalls. Besides from his resistance to fleeing the scene, Chellick seemed fine. His cock had retracted behind his groin plates, with the upper part of the condom stuck between them. Shepard gently tugged it away. In the bin with that.

“Let’s go.” And then she added with an afterthought; “This is going to be a hilarious story in a few years.”

The turian beside her vehemently disagreed.

 

**2174 CE – December 12 th – Shower – 21:24 PM**

Garrus stared in disbelief at the ruins of the shower. Whomever did this, had outdone themselves in wanton destruction, as half the stalls on one side was obliterated, and only the presence of several drains had prevented the whole building from flooding.

“Those turians,” the senior maintenance engineers sneered. “No shame whatsoever. I mean, we all know they fuck like animals in here, but at least until now they let the fixtures be.”

Garrus didn’t bother with acknowledging the blatant racism. This was eons away from Erikson levels, and he was determined to not cause more upheavals. Not yet, at any rate. Two weeks until he could talk with his father, and he counted the days.

“Albert, get the main water supply closed of. The lever is down in the maintenance hatch. Turian, get that flotsam carried out of here. It’s going to be a long evening.”

Garrus got to work with his usual ruthless efficiency, first clearing out the broken stalls with minor damages while the water was still flowing from the pipes pulled from the wall. When the water finally stilled, he picked up the last pieces from the floor and noted the scratch marks on the tiles. Talons. What else. Some of his compatriots had been having the time of their lives, clawing and scratching at everything in their reach, before practically devastating the entire… Garrus’ train of thought decelerated as he first looked, then observed the stall wall. No scratch marks. He took another look at the bent metal beam pulled from the wall. No marks on that either, nor on the wall itself. That was… weird. A turian couple that was so into each other that they would scrape the floor would surely make other marks as well? Unless… He started breathing faster. Unless there was a human in there with the turian. It was unthinkable. It couldn’t be right. A human.. with a turian? His imagination ran wild, returning to forbidden thoughts on him pinning down his squad leader, but to shove her against the wall and mount her from behind.. Spirits, that would be... awful? It _would_ be awful, he told himself. The soft feeling of unplated flesh... the small grunts and outcries she made when she trained against him.. they would probably be louder, right? _No!_ No. No. No. He forced the aroused hum from his subvocals and picked up a wrench. Garrus got back to work, trying to remember algorithms from his tech-classes to keep his mind occupied with safe subjects. They would keep his mind away from such deviant thoughts.

There was nothing sordid about calibrations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah, I made my Friday deadline, but only just. A bit shorter this time, but next time we will have that special vid-call we've all been waiting for.. and it's aftermath. Stay tuned! :D
> 
> P.S. I'm not sure if December 3rd is truly the turian unification day, but I read it on the internet somewhere and then it must be true ;)


	22. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard learns a new training method, and Garrus calls home.

**2174 CE – December 13 th – Outside Corinthus’ Office – 07:46 AM**

There had been suppressed snickering around the table as Shepard and Chellick sat down with their friends that morning. She quelled a sigh and sank down in her chair with her tray. Her boyfriend apparently had to confess to someone, and since that someone was Emerus, that meant Arista knew, and Celsus, by virtue of now often being privy to their pillow talk. At least Celsus hadn’t blabbed to his father, a fact that became obvious when captain Corinthus marched in and announced that someone had caused severe property damage on the station, and the culprits knew who they were and needed to take responsibility for their actions. Chellick almost stood up right then and there, only her firm hand on his thigh kept him from jumping out of his seat and confessing the whole affair right in front of everyone. His distressed clicking caused some of the turians around them to peer suspiciously at him. Shepard had caught Emerus’ eye, and he shook his head almost imperceptibly. The meaning was clear. Chellick would fold under questioning.

Which was the reason she was here, Shepard mused. Another visit to Corinthus' office. He might as well just give her the damn keycard and let her set up a cot in here.

She wasn’t worried when she stepped inside his office, just overly pragmatic. Corinthus was sitting in front of his terminal.

“Morning, Shepard. Is there a problem with your squad?”

“No, sir. I just happen to know who thrashed the shower rooms yesterday,” she said matter-of-factly. Corinthus intertwined his talons in front of him in a very human gesture. “I appreciate that you want to report the culprits, but I want them to do it themselves. And if they were in your squad, you reporting this without encouraging them to do the right thing first is.. could be problematic for your team.”

So she wasn’t a suspect in the debauched shower affair after all. Shepard somehow felt a little insulted at that. She could ‘debauch’ as well as the next turian.

“Actually, sir, it’s not on behalf of anyone in the squad. It’s on behalf of myself.” She kept her eyes fixed forward. Corinthus blinked slowly over and over, as if willing her to disappear before his very eyes. When the world refused to vaporize her in front of him, he leaned back with a sigh instead, and motioned her to sit down.

“Do I even want to hear this, Shepard?” He sounded tired.

“I don’t know sir. Do you?”

“Less snark and more facts, please.”

“Yes, sir. I have for some time entertained a close relationship with one of my fellow students. We don’t often have the chance to, uh, see each other, with our time tables being rather full, so when we can meet up, we make the most of it.”  
There was an unmistakable snort coming from Corinthus, but he recovered quickly. “Go on.”

“We were in the shower yesterday, and things got a little carried away. Unfortunately, those flimsy stall walls couldn’t support the weight of two people, and the shower beam was a bad choice of leverage, and so the whole thing collapsed on itself. And us, you might say.”

Corinthus pretended to stifle his chuffs with a cough. “And that other party, why isn’t he here to confess with you? Afraid of turians.”

“Not really, sir. I felt I had to come forward first, because of the sensitive nature of the case.”

“What sensitive nature? We know that the showers are used for letting out a bit of steam, though not usually as literal as this. And it does not speaks to his better nature that he’s not here.”

“It speaks to his better nature that I practically had to tie him down to prevent him from running here and start confessing outright, but I guess thousands of years of civil service is bred into his DNA.”

Corinthus started blinking again, and Shepard was concerned the man might develop a serious tick any day soon. She could almost hear the cogs in his brain whirr to life. His mandibles gave a few erratic jerks before they closed on his face.

“So, this fellow you’re not naming by name...” he began.

“I won’t, so don ask.”

“I don’t think you have to. I remember having an informal, ahem, chat with one of my recruits last year, about aliens and chafing and whatnot. Might this be up the same alley?”

“It might,” Shepard admitted.

“Spirits..” Corinthus looked like a man that was facing the void with no hope of redemption.

“Shepard, is it your mission in life to make mine miserable? If you’re this much trouble now, I dread to think what you’ll be like when Gagarin unleashes you unto the galaxy at large.”

He stroked his fringe tentatively. “I remembered talking about repercussions for the careers of ‘individuals’ caught up in such matters.”

“I think we both know if this information became public, the careers of all the instructors on the station would be in jeopardy.”

“Are you threatening me, _recruit_?”

Shepard wondered is she also looked as tired as she felt. “No, sir. Can I speak plainly, off the record?”

“You may.”

“If this becomes public, I will take the blame for the.. _affair_ on me. I will try to shield _him_ as much as possible because he does not deserve to be publicly condemned for being my boyfriend. We’re not hurting anyone, and I don’t know how I would have made it through these past months without his help. In all honesty, this is just another thing that should be swept under the rather large carpet at Jump Zero.” She met his eyes with a steely resolve.

“Boyfriend? So it’s not just steam, then?” Corinthus asked.

“Much more solid than steam, sir. I genuinely care for him, and I hope he feels the same for me.”

Corinthus mulled over her words for a while, before making up his mind.

“I see. Those stalls were rather flimsy, as you say. No need to make a big deal out of this. Feces occurs, as humans say.”

This time it was Shepard’s turn to blink at the turian’s strange use of idioms.

“You might have reported the water leak a little sooner. Could have been disastrous if there were not already floor drains in there.”

“Understood, sir.”

“No need to put a minor incident in the station records. They were probably due for replacement anyway.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And tell your.. boyfriend, that I hope he took my advice last year. Dismissed.”

Shepard stepped outside feeling relieved. Crisis averted, for now.

 

**2174 CE – December 17 th – Armax Combat Sim – 21:39 PM**

“It’s time for the next step in your education, Shepard.”

Somehow Vyrnnus could make even innocuous words sound malevolent, and Shepard felt a familiar chill run down her back. At least he wouldn’t be able to hit her when she was to participate in a holo-program.

“Hold your arms out.” Vyrnnus removed two small bracelets from his pockets. Shepard recognized the brand. It was from the set she’d had clapped around her neck at her board meeting.

“I know not to use biotics in the sim, sir.”

“This isn’t a suppressor,” the commander said as he locked them in place. “You’ll see. Now I expect to see a kill for every enemy you encounter. I will be watching every step, and I’ve ordered this program especially for you.”

Shepard shrugged at his words. She had tried all the sim’s environment settings, and even if they upped the difficulty, there was no real danger inside the holo-dome.

“I’ll be in the monitoring booth to give instructions. Prepare to start in two minutes.”

Shepard checked her rifle and adjusted her gear, more out of habit than necessity. ‘Make gear check your second nature,’ her uncle David used to say when she asked him for advice. She jumped up and down on the spot to get a little spring in her step before the program started.

“Ready? Go!” Vyrnnus called over the com.

The setting was from earth, suburban, fighting militia from house to house, a practice in discerning friend from foe. Kill anyone with a gun, let civilians and children escape. The orders came from on high, who to shoot and who to let live. Vyrnnus sounded like he was having a good time for once, ordering her around the field to kill other humans. The pop-up enemies were fast, but not to an unrealistic degree, and Shepard felt she was making good time. A new image of a militia fighter appeared in a broken window, she heard the order to ‘kill’ and aimed her gun for a headshot, when she saw the militia fighter’s face. She froze. It was her mother’s.

“Fire, Shepard!” Vyrnnus’ voice thundered in her ear.

It was like time screeched to a halt. She could smell the layer of rubber on the rifle stock, saw the gray beret worn by the figure before her had a pin with the Alliance fleet on it, heard the small creak of fabric in her armor as she shifted grip on her rifle while she was staring down the mirror image of herself behind the cracked glass.

“Kill it, Shepard!”

Vyrnnus’ voice was in her head, but managed to sound far away, as if she heard him in slow motion.

“No,” she croaked. “I can’t.”

“Kill the enemy, Shepard!”

She knew why he kept repeating her name over and over, but her finger refused to pull the trigger. Eventually time unfroze and ‘Hannah’ fired her handgun in Shepard’s chest until the heat sink glowed. Shepard felt every simulated impact through the special sim-suit, and Vyrnnus had ramped up the pain threshold. She could barely breathe.

“Disappointing, Shepard. Not only are you dead, you also disobeyed a direct order. And for that-..”

The bracelets around her wrists buzzed and gave her a sharp stinging shock. The pain made her pull the trigger, and the salvo went over ‘Hannah’s' head. Shepard dropped the rifle and cried out in distress.

“Did I say you could drop your gun? Pick it up! Pick. It. Up!” The commander’s screech sounded almost deranged.

Her hands shook as she searched the ground for the rifle, and on instinct she did another rifle check when she held it again.

“Next target better be killed, human. Go!”

Shepard stumbled forward, and the next two militia men were generic humans, easily picked off. She tried to control her breathing and prepared for another image of her mother, but the third target wasn’t Hannah Shepard. It was Dmitri Basanov. She froze again.

“Kill him, Shepard.”

No response, but her trigger finger twitched.

“Him or you, Shepard. Shoot it!”

Shepard trembled and fired, but the shot went low and missed the figure carrying her best friend’s face entirely. He was carrying an assault rifle, and like last time, she got the entire clip in her chest and staggered backwards. The pain was unbelievable, made worse by the followup shock to her wrists. This time she managed to hold on to the gun, but barely.

“Not much of an improvement,” Vyrnnus scoffed over the coms. “Not to worry, we have all evening. Next!”

‘Gear check.’ Shepard forced herself to perform it again and continued the path ahead of her. Her hands were still trembling from the aftermath of the shocks, but she knew he could always get worse. Who else could he know about? Her mother, Dmitri, uncle David? She didn’t have much family outside those, and she doubted the commander knew of her friends on Arcturus, like Jeff. But if he knew about Chellick, there was no telling what he might do. A few more militia targets, and then David Anderson’s face stared at her through a sniper scope. This time she was expecting it and fired four shots. Only two of them hit the mark.

“Flesh wounds? Really, Shepard? You think a wounded enemy won’t kill you?”

“It’s because of the bracelets, sir,” she mumbled back. “My aim is a little unsteady.”

“Don’t lie to me, human. I know why you hesitate, but we’ll soon have that drilled out of your head. Back to start and do it again. I have more targets for you to kill.”

Shepard licked her dry lips and tried not to show too much trepidation. It would embolden him further.

“Affirmative, sir. Returning to start.”

A feeling of despair began to stir inside, and she struggled to keep it at bay. How could she fight back on this?

 

**2174 CE – December 17 th – Locker room – 23:45 PM**

Chellick felt relief wash over him when he finally heard footsteps approach and Shepard walked in. She’d been much too late tonight, and he’d began fearing he might have to go to bed without helping her after her training.

“Spirits, I was starting to think-..” When he saw her dead eyes, he knew something had happened. “Jane, what’s wrong? What did he do?”

“We trained. Combat sim.”

There was no emotion in her voice, and Chellick was concerned. “Let me look at you, Jane. What scenario?”

“Urban warfare.” There was still no expression on her face, and she avoided meeting his eyes.

“Jane, you’re scaring me.” He tried to take her hands, but she shied away from him like he’d tried to hurt her.

“No..”

It was heartbreaking to see her pulling away from him, but even worse when she sounded like this. Vulnerable.

“Jane, please. Let me see.”

She appeared to gain some control over herself, then carefully removed her undersuit. Her chest was reddened from sim-burns, and around her wrists were red burn marks and blisters in a circular form. Chellick flared his fringe in anger. “We can’t let this go on. He needs to pay for this!”

“It’s nothing,” Shepard said flatly.

“Nothing? Jane, he hurts you, and you think it’s nothing? What’s wrong with you?”

“He made me kill them,” she whispered. “All of them.”

“Kill who? You’re not making any sense.”

“The combat sim. He programmed them in. My mom, Dmitri, uncle David, mom’s friend Steven Hackett, several members of the fleet and.. and.. my dad. Vyrnnus made a character that looked like my _dad!”_

The last word was shouted, but her eyes were still unfixed, and she started to shiver, as if someone had thrown her into a cold river. Chellick was torn between his anger towards her tormentor and concern for her, and the latter won out. Pulling her stiff body into his own, he placed her arms around her to give her of his warmth, and to comfort her.

“Ssh, Jane, come back to me, you’re not alone now.” There was no immediate response, and he tried the turian way instead, purring softly in the crook of her neck. They stood like that for a long time, and he was afraid she’d finally broken, when he felt her arms snake his back and she leaned on him, accepting his offer of safety. Not a sound was uttered, but he felt her tremble in short silent sobs. Chellick made no comment, knowing she despised being seen as weak. This would be their secret. She clung to him while she tried to take back a semblance of control, and her sobs finally stilled. When she untangled herself from his arms, there was a telltale look of redness around her eyes. He pretended not to notice.

“Jane,” he said simply and pressed his mouth plates to her forehead. They could discuss this later, right now he desperately needed her to cheer up, it was like a physical ache in his gizzard.

“Thank you, Decian,” she said with a sad attempt at a smile, but he felt it go right to his chest.

“Anytime. Let’s get you cleaned and patched up. Fourex in three days. Don’t want to go easy on us, do you?”

Shepard chuckled against her will, discreetly wiping away the last tear. “No. I’ll get you all.”

 

**2174 CE – December 20 th – Victory Dinner – 19:02 PM**

“Hey Garrus, want more kheelie steak?” Aius prodded him in the arm. “We even have some sauce left, I can pour some for you.”

“No thanks,” he replied and glanced at the timer again.

“The vid-call is half an hour away, take some time to celebrate. We won again! We’re the best!” Aius was exuberant.

Garrus was sullen. “Sure.”

“Spirits, you’re hopeless,” Aius rolled his eyes. “I give up. Sit there and mope to death for all I care. Nirea, want more steak?”

“Wow, Castor really scared you into becoming a proper turian. Thank you, yes,” Nirea laughed while Aius served her.

Garrus didn’t care. A month ago he would have been brimming with pride over being first among the squads, now he saw his forced presence at the table as an annoyance. His squad mates were short with him and he’d been distancing himself from them since his almost expulsion, and they all knew it. Yet for his self imposed solitude, he didn’t feel alone. He felt driven. And the goal was measly 28 minutes, no, he corrected himself, 22 minutes away. He’d been let of maintenance duty today because of the vid-call and their victory, the only thing between him and his father was now.. 20 minutes. The minutes snailed by and he tried to stop himself from looking at the clock, to no avail. 19 minutes.

“Cut that out, you’re ruining the evening for the rest of us,” Mevia snapped.

“What?” Garrus didn’t even look at her.

“Just get out of here, if we’re so intolerable. Go make our call, and then get your head back in training.”

“Fine.” He got up, avoiding Castor’s worried gaze as he walked out on them.

 

 

The holo-screen flickered before the image stabilized, and Garrus saw his father’s face appear, mandibles flaring wide.

“Garrus! How are you, son? Did you get the package we sent you? How did your exam go?” Galenus thrummed with anticipation.

“We won again,” Garrus said with a mandible flick and stared on the screen. His father didn’t notice the hard edge in his voice.

“You’ve won twice? Well done, Garrus! That’s impressive, even more so considering your squad leader. How do you fare, working with that Shepard girl? I got the impression you didn’t much care for her last we spoke.”

“We don’t see eye to eye on much, and she’s not very pleasant,” Garrus said shortly, not wanting to down that particular road.

His father gave a mirthless chuckle. “I can imagine. She’s not too fond of our family.”

Garrus was unable to carry on exchanging pleasantries any longer. “And who’s fault is that?”

“Garrus, admiral Shepard has never liked turians very much, a lingering effect from the relay incident. Now, about your exam-..” Galenus said, but was cut off by his son.

“You don’t think it has something to do with you burning her husband to death in an underground cave?!” Even is he wanted to, Garrus could not keep the vitriol from his voice. Galenus Vakarian straightened up and stared at his son.

“Where did you hear that?”

“Is it true?”

“Tell me who told you! Was it that girl?” Galenus used his commanding voice, but Garrus was too far gone and too far away to care.

“Is it true?!” he demanded.

“Don’t believe everything that human tells you, their hatred of turians is well known,” Galenus tried again.

“Shepard never said why she hates me, she has other methods to convey that. No, I had to hear that from one of the other humans here. Don’t lie to me, did you do it?”

“Garrus, there will always be casualties in war, and Shepard's father was an unfortunate incident-...”

“Like the other thousands of humans that burned in those tunnels? Almost 20 000 of them? How unfortunate was that?”

Garrus’ voice was cruel, but he harbored a desperate hope that his father would deny these allegations, tell him that they were nothing but slanderous fancies by a crazed human, but he did not. Instead, he saw his father, the great Galenus Vakarian, champion of rules and justice, lost for words, trying to evade telling the truth. The implications were staggering.

Galenus Vakarian clamped his mandibles to his jaw, subconsciously scraping his talons at the desk towards the decanter, trying to keep the distressed thrum out of his subvocals.

“Son, you must understand.. I was.. I was a different man back then. Captured behind enemy lines, in fear for my life. I had to escape.” Galenus paused. Garrus saw him wince at recalling distant memories, but he had no mercy for his father. His father, whom had stolen Garrus’ faith in him, robbed him of his family honor, and at this moment, the son wanted the father to feel the same pain.

“And the wholesale slaughter of women and children? They just had to die?”

“I didn’t know, Garrus. We were underground, I thought it was a military base. I didn’t know.”

“It was a shelter! You burned them all so you could live! Coward!” he shouted, yelling at the screen as if his father was in the room.

“You will not speak to me in that way, Garrus Vakarian!” Galenus shouted back at his end, but Garrus paid no heed to him. Todd Erikson had been right. He was sired by a war criminal. The pain at losing all familial pride and having the image of his proud father tarnished like this made him livid, at himself, his father and the stupid human that told him.

“You have no honor, child murderer,” he growled at Galenus. “You don’t deserve the markings you bear, you should be barefaced to show your shame. And mine.”

“Garrus, stop this,” Galenus repeated, now with a fearful undertone. “You had nothing to do with this, neither does your mother and sister.”

“We carry the name, thus the shame. The Shepards are right to hate us.” The call pad was in view of the screen, and his father saw him reach for it.

“Garrus, no! Wait, we need to talk about this.”

“No more words, no more lies. Goodbye, _father_.” Garrus spat the last word and clicked ‘end-call.’

 

Outside in the hallway he leaned against the wall and drew a few heavy breaths. The truth was here, and it was not what he expected. The high tier of the Vakarian clan was based on a lie. They were war criminals. No wonder the humans complained about his father working on the Citadel. It was like they were shoving clan Vakarian in the human’s faces, hey look what we can do, and you have to sit there and take it. Garrus felt something in his pocket jut into his thigh, and pulled out the maintenance crew card. The card granted access to almost every public part of the station, and he was now in the officer’s wing, the only place that allowed vid-calls off world. He had ended his call early, and the next caller would not be around for a while. This place also had a private mess hall, with a small bar, if his memory served him right. He remembered his father’s hand creeping towards the alcohol in their call. Garrus decided to go upstairs to check. If his father could drink, then so could he. Why should he care about his reputation, it was already ruined.

 

**2174 CE – December 20 th – Library – 21:01 PM**

“And did he say why he canceled your lesson?” Celsus asked.

“Nope, but I’ve heard rumors. The commander supposedly has his beady eyes on one of the turian nurses, and this was her night off. Never one to let an opportunity slip past him.” Shepard tried to sound cheerful, but she was still a bit shellshocked from his new training method. Even worse was the knowledge that shooting images of family and friends was already becoming easier. It should not be, not even under the threat of electric-shocks and simulated fire. If her trigger finger obeyed more readily, her mind was straining under the pressure. The N7- program was the only reason she still held out this abuse. That, and Chellick. He was still with his squad, celebrating their second tier tie with Emerus.

“Shepard, I asked you a question,” Celsus said reprovingly.

She’d ignored him while lost in thought. “Sorry, I was a little distracted. What was it?”

“How do you get your squad to function as a team? Mine is always at odds with each other on the field, placing blame.”  
“Well, I put them in the sim and had a couple with me in the booth. It’s much easier spotting mistakes in there, and I made them help out the rest of the team during the exercise. Maybe that’ll work for you too.”

“Thanks, I will try that,” he said and jotted it down on a datapad.

They looked up as the library door whooshed open and someone ran in, calling her name.

“Shepard?! Shepard!! I know you’re in here!” Strabo’s shrill voice made her jump from her seat.

“Whoa whoa, calm down, I’m up here,” she called to him, and he ran up the stairs to find her. When he arrived at their table, he opened his mouth to speak, then he saw Celsus. The roar became a squeak. “We need to speak. Right now! Alone,” he begged.

“Uuh, right, I’ll just.. get a shower then,” Celsus grinned and winked at her. He got up and strolled out.

“Hope you drown, buddy,” she smiled at his disappearing back, then turned to Strabo. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s Garrus. He’s climbed to the top of the water silo down in the storage hall, and is throwing off bottles and shooting them.”

“He’s got a gun from the armory? They’re all locked in and accounted for,” she said, staring at Strabo in surprise.

“We don’t know how he did it, just.. He won’t listen to us, and he’s _drunk_!”

Shepard groaned. There was just no end to trouble with that kid. “Why is he drunk, Strabo? I doubt they served alcohol at your dinner today?”

“We don’t know that either. You need to come and talk him down, or he might get in trouble.”

“Firing live rounds in unsafe environment, he’s already up to his cowl in trouble,” Shepard grumbled. She swept her datapads in the backpack and hid it on top of a shelf, before running after Strabo.

 

**2174 CE – December 20 th – Storage Hall – 21:15 PM**

Garrus tossed another empty bottle, took aim and splintered it with one perfectly aimed shot. The beer wasn’t doing much for him, so he picked up the lone bottle of horosk he’d managed to break out of the bar, wrenched the lid open and gulped down a third of the content without tasting it. When he put the bottle down his mouth was on fire. That stuff really burned. His feet swayed as the beer and the horosk fought for dominion inside his stomach, and he put his hand inside his suit and pulled out the small package his dad had sent him. It was small and rectangular, and he wondered if it was Galenus who had bought it, as it was usually his mother’s style to find thoughtful little gifts for her children. It didn’t matter. His father had sent it, and he wanted nothing to do with that man any more. He tried to straighten up and held the rifle in one hand, tossing the package over the edge with the other. He hitched the gun to his chin, but the horosk made its presence known and his hands tremble, and the shot went wide. The small brown carton sailed through the air and began its steep descent. It didn’t matter, Garrus thought, picking up the bottle for another swill. No matter what was inside it would break upon impact. Good riddance!

 

Shepard heard the last shot and saw something fall through the air towards them. Her turian troublemaker must really be drunk if he couldn’t hit that, she reflected and activated her biotics, catching the item before it hit the ground. There was broken pieces of glass scattered around on the floor, and she noted they were mostly beer bottles. She spun the small packet around in her fingers before pocketing it for later.

“This needs to be cleaned up,” she whispered to Strabo, and motioned to the shattered glass.

“We’ll fix that,” he whispered back. “Just get that lunatic down.”

“Anyone has an idea what caused this?”

“He had a vid-call from home today, been waiting for that for a month.” Strabo looked away. “We’ve been having some fights with Garrus after that thing with Erikson. He’s very stubborn. We just didn’t think he’d do something like this.”

Shepard exhaled heavily. “I’ll see what I can do. Stay back, bad enough I have to get in the line of fire.”

He nodded at her, and stood back at the ladder.

“See you in a bit,” she said with more confidence than she felt, and started the ascent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little late with posting this weekend, and I blame Jaal Ama Darav. I've spent the last week trying to keep up with work, writing and getting in his pants. Wasn't planning on it, I had my eyes on Liam, but the purple alien proved irresistable.  
> And on that note.. Not really a spoiler, but those green/neon colored turians on ME:A? Yum! :)
> 
> And this might be a spoiler for Andromeda, so look away; We finally know the name of Garrus' father! Wow! I don't think I'll bother with changing it in my story. Galenus is derived from greek and means something like calm or tranquil, being the opposite of his more wild and reckless son. But Castis is official, and I assume it will pop up in later fanfics now that it's canon. 
> 
> Not been proofread as many times as it should, might contain small mistakes, mortify me by telling me the ones you can find. ;)
> 
> Happy weekend (what's left of it) :D


	23. Horosk and humility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and Garrus have a heart to heart.

When Shepard hoisted herself over the edge, Garrus was downing another gulp of horosk. He staggered a bit, and she gasped when he almost stumbled over the ledge and down from the silo. The sound made him swing around, rifle waving wildly in front of him, and she felt a phantom shock in her wrist. ‘Kill it,’ a ghost voice muttered in her head. She mentally swatted it away.

“Hi, Vakarian. Having a private shooting contest?” she said in a light tone.

The rifle was pointed directly at her chest now, and Shepard had to fight the urge to strike him with a biotic charge or put up a shield. That would not solve anything in the long run, even if it might save her some pain right now. She extinguished the biotic flare in her palm, but not before Garrus spotted it.

He glared mistrustfully at her. “Come to use your biotics on me again? Think you can stop me before I shoot you?”

She suddenly felt uncertain. This was new. He never actually threatened her before.

“No. I won’t use biotics against you again. If you want to shoot, I’m right here.” She held open her palms to show she was unarmed and not flaring biotics. It was a big risk, but she doubted he actually meant to shoot her. Or maybe she just hoped he didn’t mean to shoot her. The dice was cast, however, and now she had to play it out.

“That’s not like you.” He swayed again. The bottle in his hand was not beer, and she wondered where he’d got hard liquor on the station. “Usually you’re all out to get me. And why not? We deserve it.”

Shepard winced at the term ‘deserve it.’ That was not something she wanted to be reminded of.

“Who’s we,” she asked and took a few steps sideways, trying to get away from the wavering rifle barrel.

“Me. My dad. Clan Vakarian,” he said and took another gulp. Shepard wondered if he’d ever been drunk before. This seemed a little too much to handle for a first time drinker.

“I know what we did to your famuly.. faimly.. family,” he mumbled. “And all the others.”

Shepard cursed inwardly. He’d asked his father about what Erikson told him. That could be a problem.

“You didn’t do any of those things, and what’s between our parents should’ve stayed between our parents,” Shepard said and took one step closer. “Will you put the rifle down? I won’t try to take it from you, but I’d feel safer if it wasn’t aimed at me.”

“Wasn’t going to shoot you anyway,” he said in a low voice. “Won’t shame my clan further.” The rifle clattered as it hit the ground, and Shepard jumped away to avoid any misfire. After thanking a number of deities that the rifle didn’t go off, she picked it up and ejected the heat sink. Safety first. Gear check. Next step. She sat down on the generator housing on the roof and patted the spot next to her. “Tell me about it.”

He glared at her like a petulant child. “No.”

Shepard glared right back and barked at him like a disobedient dog; “Sit!”

The turian in him responded to direct orders, and Garrus shuffled over and sat down reluctantly.

“Would you give me that bottle? Please?” she asked more gently.

He pulled away but remained seated. “Why shouldn’t I drink?” he snapped at her. “Dad does. Quite a lot for a high tier turian.”

“And my mom hates turians. I don't,” she replied softly. “We don’t have to do what they do.”

“You hate me though,” he muttered and lifted the bottle again.

Shepard placed her hand on his forearm and held it back. “I don’t hate you, Garrus.”

He jerked at her mentioning of his name. She’d never used it before, it was always Vakarian this or that, but he recovered quickly.

“Tried to kill me. Yells at me. Doesn’t even speak to me unless you have to.”

These things were all too true, except that she never meant to kill him. Not really. Nevertheless, she couldn’t blame him for believing that.

“Never wanted you to die. I blamed you for many things that was outside your control. I was a real asshole, just like the ones I warned you about the day we met. Now please give me the bottle.”

“You’re just saying that to calm me down. You’d never be friendly with me otherwise,” he insisted, alcohol slurring his speech.

“I haven’t been so far, no. I’ve been unfair and cruel, but I’ve never outright lied to you.”

Lies of omission was best kept out if this discussion.

“Have a drink with me then, if you mean it.” Garrus waved the bottle in the air, challenging her to grab for it. She ignored the flailing arm and smelled his breath instead.

“Is that.. shuttle fuel?” she said with a grimace.

“It’s turian. Freshly stolen from the officer’s bar,” Garrus hiccuped. “Amazing where you have access with a maintenance card.”

Shepard forced a smile. Of course it was stolen. Nothing like another awkward meeting with captain Corinthus on the conduct of her squad. The thieving turian sitting next to her wasn’t worried about consequences right now.

“Drink! Or it’s all lies. Everyone lies to me on this station. Except racist humans who want me dead.”

She sighed. “Fine. Hand it over then.”

Slowly, as if daring her to snatch it from him, he held out the bottle and watched her carefully. She could take the bottle away and break it, thereby breaking the minuscule level of trust he showed, or she could take a sip from the horrid stuff and join him in violating another set of station rules. There couldn’t be many more she hadn’t broken already, she reflected, and took the bottle from him and raised it to her lips. From the corner of her eye she saw the look of surprise on his face, and followed up by swallowing three big sips before her taste buds could fire off a warning of oncoming poison. When she put the bottle down she had three seconds where her mouth was numb, then a burning sensation spread from her mouth down her throat and she was seized with a coughing fit. She tried to spit out whatever remained of the horosk inside her mouth, to the flanging chuffs of Garrus.

“Didn’t actually think you’d do it.”

She gave him an accusing stare with watery eyes. “That wasn’t ‘normal’ alcohol, was it?”

“No. That was horosk. Turian stuff, meant to give some extra plating on your chest. Not that you’d need that,” he said and glanced down at her chest. “Your chest is already padded.”

If that comment had come from anyone else than a drunk turian, Shepard would have clipped that someone over the ear. As it was, she doubted this particular turian knew what breasts were, and let it slide. For some reason, he suddenly met her eyes with an embarrassed wide eyed stare. “I didn’t mean to.. I don’t know why I said that, human females are not..I’ve never-..”

“Hey hey, no harm, no foul. I’m sure you don’t have the faintest idea about human chests, I’m not offended.”

“That’s.. good.”

She pretended to take another sip while he fidgeted with his talons. Under other conditions having a drink under the noses of her superiors wouldn’t have caused her much consternation, but this stuff tasted like bilge water, and she needed a clear head to deal with... whatever this was. A slight surge of dizziness struck her, and reminded her that whatever horosk was made of, it wasn’t intended for human consumption. That stuff worked fast, and she wondered what it did to young turians.

“My father killed a lot of humans,” Garrus said absentmindedly. “No wonder everyone always wants to beat the plates off me.” He sounded sad, and Shepard was reminded of her own role as a punching ball for Vyrnnus. It was an uncomfortable comparison.

“That’s still not your fault, Garrus. Those people, me included, should’ve known better than to take their issues out on you. You never deserved that.”

“I don’t believe you,” he hissed. “You hate my father, and his name, and by extension, me! There’s nothing changed between us.”

She stared out into the storage facility. “I’ve changed. Not enough, perhaps, but I know what I did to you had little to do with who you are. It was all about what I am. And it was evil.”

Garrus moved uneasily at her admission, not believing what he heard.

“And you got away with it,” he said, refusing to look at her. To his surprise, she gave a short snort and rubbed her left wrist as an afterthought.

“I wasn’t kicked off the station, no. But I didn’t walk away from that scot-free. Why don’t you tell me more about your vid-call with your father,” she said, trying to steer the conversation away from the topic of punishment.

“Like you even care,” he mumbled with a voice that thrummed with emotions. Garrus was apparently not a happy drunk, and she felt a rising determination to comfort him. Much of his predicament was on her.

“You know, the first day we met, before I knew your name, I thought you were a pretty decent guy. You refused to admit defeat when those guys beat you, and you said I was old.. hah, okay, maybe not that last part. You also denied oozing blood on my sand pit, it was pretty funny.”

“Yeah?” He sounded confused and hopeful all at the same time, before remembering who he was talking to. “Whatever. You’re just saying that to keep me from jumping from this silo.”

“If I didn’t care, would I be up here talking to you, instead of floating you down from here with my biotics? Or chanting ‘jump, jump’ from the floor?” She let that sink into his drunk brain while trying to figure out what to say next. The rest of the squad had opened up a lot since their first month, even the hard headed Mevia, but Garrus remained a mystery. Perhaps if you bothered to talk to him before this, a treacherous voice said in her head, and this time she listened to it. This was her fault, but perhaps it was still time to make things right.

“He shamed our clan,” Garrus said out of the blue. He looked as surprised as she was at this sudden revelation. She said nothing and let him set the pace. For Garrus, her silent acceptance was like the opening of a flood gate he’d tried to keep closed for too long.

“A crime like that should lead to demotion and public hearings, stripping of colony marks. The shame should stain our clan for generations. Why did he too get away with it? He prides himself in truth and fairness.”

He stared at her, daring her to answer, the other escapee from justice. From the stories she knew from earth, she had an inkling as to why things had played out the way they did.

“It was after the war. The turians had to retreat from Arcturus after the Council intervened. One of their dreadnoughts was shot down over the human homeworld, and I don’t think they wanted to make more concessions after that,” she said. “Admitting to having committed war crimes on earth would have skewered the public opinion in favor of the humans, and I’ve heard your primarch is a proud man. He’d never allow it.”

Shepard had rarely allowed herself to think about this from the turian point of view, but it made sense, at least. Garrus looked dumbfounded at her.

“And you agree with this?”

A mirthless chuckle escaped her. “I never said that. It’s just.. politics. I can see why Corinthus hates it so much.”

“Politics,” he repeated, "and politicians. That’s where it all gets muddled up. It’s never black and white for them, all gray. I don’t know what to do with gray.”

“Garrus?”

“Did you know primarch Fedorian hates our clan too? Even though he must’ve protected my dad after the war?”

“I didn’t know that, no.”

“And the squad hates me, after I cut that human.” Garrus’ voice was becoming high pitched and slurring even more. He was swaying slightly even when sitting down.

“They don’ hate you, Garrus, they need time to see you’re sorry for what you did. It was the same thing for me when I hurt you. My friends hardly spoke to me for weeks.”

“Your turian friends?”

“Yes, my turian friends. They were very pissed at me. I don’t blame them.”

“But you were sorry?”

“Not were. I _am_ sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you, Garrus. There’s not a thing in my life I regret more.”

He looked down. “The thing is, I’m not sorry.”

She could feel those bright blue eyes glowing in the semi-dark at her.

“I don’t blame you for that either. It’s understandable, given what humans have put you through after you arrived here,” Shepard said, keeping her voice neutral.

“You don’t hate me for it.” It was no longer a question, only a confirmation from a tipsy turian, trying to make sense of what was being said.

“I don’t hate you. Actually, I.. I wish that we could get along better. I don’t expect you to want us to be friends, but we can..Well, I know I can stop being such an asshole to you at all times. What do you think?”

She tried to catch his eye, but he was still stuck on his previous topic.

“You don’t hate me.”

“No, I don’t. What do you say we get down from here, find somewhere else to chat? I can teach you how to cheat at poker?”

“You’re the only one that doesn’t hate me.”

Shepard chuckled despite herself. “Still on that loop, are we? Well, that’s okay. We can sit here for a while until you get your bearings.”

Shepard scooted a little closer and placed a hand on his cowl, patting him slowly on the back. She felt genuinely sorry for him, and knew Chellick liked being comforted by having his cowl stroked. Garrus turned around to stare at her in astonishment, and she wondered if she’d misread some turian body language and committed another cultural atrocity. Instead, Garrus broke into a low warbling thrum, and suddenly she had her arms full of drunk turian. He burrowed his face in the crook of her neck and continued to give off that warble while his body occasionally contracted in what sounded like chuffing sobs.

Shepard was again struck by the similarity of their situation, both were shunned after their transgressions and struggled to keep up appearances despite being socially marooned in a sea of other students. The thing was, she’d been saved by Celsus and Emerus, Garrus had, as far as she could tell, nobody. In was not three days ago when she’d been crying in someone else’s arms, and she felt a pang of guilt for not seeing Garrus for what he was; A fifteen year old boy long away from home for the first time, isolated and alone. She should have seen that earlier, if she was any kind of leader. The younger turian clung to her like she was his only source of air, and she couldn’t stop herself from wrapping her arms around him and patting him reassuringly on his cowl and back. His body relaxed a bit when he felt she wasn’t going to shove him away, but he did not let go, still warbling in her neck.

“It’s okay, I got you. I got you, big guy,” she said with her chin pressed to his crest.

“We’ll fix this. It’s you and me, against the rest.”

His breathing slowed and the warble was replaced by a low keening sound. Shepard wasn’t sure what it meant, only that he seemed to get less agitated, and she kept on stroking his back in slow circles. She kept on soothing him until he stopped keening and merely held on for comfort, letting him take all the time he needed to compose himself. This morning this scenario would have been unthinkable, in this moment it felt inevitable. She was his leader, she was supposed to support and help him. So far she’d done a piss poor job, she reflected. That would stop now.

When he finally pulled away from her, he was slow and unsteady, tentatively peering into her face to see if there was any condemnation or ridicule to be found. There was none. She gave him a comforting smile. “Hey you. Feel better?”

He swallowed and opened and closed his mouth plates a few times. Then he studied her face again, trying to decide if this was real. Having him this close she could smell the horosk on his breath again, and she saw that his eyes were squinting more than normal. He was still on a rising alcohol level.

“Feel all right?” she asked again, giving him another pat.

He closed his eyes and made a sound that was a distorted purr and a chirrup. She smiled again. At least he wasn’t doing that turian crying any more. She shifted in her seat, and he quickly opened his eyes again to stare at her. Reaching out with one hand, it looked like he was about to touch her hair. Shepard sat still, a little hair touching wouldn’t do any of them any harm, she figured, but he pulled back the hand and looked at her again, like he was asking for permission. There was no danger in indulging him in a little drunken curiosity at this point, she reasoned and gave him a nod. Garrus’ eyes widened, and he quickly reached out again. Instead of just touching her hair, he carefully placed his hand on the back of her head and pulled her forehead to his. His blue eyes pierced her gray ones for any sign of her finding his gesture offensive, but Shepard again saw no harm in this strange turian ritual and leaned into his crest. Again he made those odd chirps and half strangled purrs, but she thought nothing of it. It wasn’t like he had a thing for her, it was probably a ‘buddy’ ritual turians did when they made peace.

When he released her, he flicked his mandibles in a careful smile, gave another purr… and then promptly vomited in her lap. The smell of regurgitated horosk and stomach acid made her gag.

“Augh! Garrus, what the hell?” she said in exasperation, but without real anger.

The look of raw shame in his face made her regret the comment. “Sorry,” he warbled.

“Hey hey, none of that. It’s fine, not like there’s not an abundance of conatix sweatpants around here. Let’s go find the doctor.”

“ I‘m fne,” he mumbled, trying to extrapolate himself from her arm. His speech was starting to slur badly.

“I know you’re fine, but what about me? I have a dextro allergy and need someone to follow me to Publius. Won’t you help me?” Her first outright lie to him and hopefully the last.

“Nd my help?” he said with a look of drunken uncertainty.

“Yes. Will you escort me to medbay? Please?”

At the ‘please’ he stumbled back on his feet and wiped the last remnant of sick off his mouth plates.

“Yeah. ‘kay. I got your six, Shparrd.”

Shepard pulled herself up and got as much vomit off her pants as possible, then deftly put her arm around a swaying Garrus. “I might need support, you did promise to help me.”

There was a giddy flange in his voice when he answered. “Anything for you, Shparrd.”

Despite the fact that he would almost certainly remember very little of this tomorrow, Shepard felt an unfamiliar sense of contentment at his newfound trust in her. Too bad it wouldn’t last. She’d seen this level of intoxication before. There would be blackouts, and perhaps alcohol poisoning. Garrus had to get to the doctor as soon as possible, but maneuvering a drunk turian down the ladder would be impossible. If only they could..

“Fly down?” Garrus mumbled on her shoulder.

“Fly?” Perhaps he was more far gone than she first assumed.

“Like when capn shot you. That was grreat,” he enthused.

The ‘capn’ being referred to was Corinthus, and she remembered that day. She’d never tried to levitate another being and herself at the same time, and with horosk churning inside her own stomach, she didn’t trust her pin point accuracy with biotics right now. However, there was not a lot of other options.

“Do you trust me to do this?” she asked.

“Mmph, yourr hairrr smells nice,” Garrus said and sniffed her ear. He was drawling those ‘r’s like there was no tomorrow.

Okay, biotic fall it is, she decided and pulled him towards the edge. It would be risky, but something about his behavior was really wrong right now. It was beyond making nice. He was flirting with her. Publius needed to cleanse the horosk from his system immediately.

“Ready,” she asked him and pulled him closer. Not really the best solution for his present state, but she had no other.

“Mmh, yes, rready,” he said and sniffed her again. This time his breath tickled down her neck in a way that was.. disturbing.

“Okay then, here we go,” she said and pushed both of them off the ledge. After two seconds she activated lift, and their descent slowed as they fell towards the ground. After their landing, Shepard saw a rustle of movement beside a container, and realized her ‘ground-team’ was still here, waiting for her.

“My carrrapace tickled,” Garrus said beside her. “Again?”

“Another time, Garrus. You need to help me get to Publius, remember?”

“Ssshure,” he drawled while trying to nuzzle her neck. What on earth had she agreed to with that head bump?

“Shepard?” Strabo took a few steps towards them.

Pointing to the top of the silo and mouthing the word ‘rifle,’ she managed to impart orders to him and he headed towards the ladder. His waiting companion was none other than Mevia, and Shepard waved her hand in the general direction of the strewn glass on the floor. Mevia nodded, and stepped forward with a hoover. They were already prepared. Shepard felt a surge of pride that was swiftly replaced with a surge of dread as Garrus tried to purr again. Mevia gave him a look of disbelief as Shepard started to drag him out of there. “You don’t hhhate me,” he said again, and she had to smile by the absurdity of the situation.

“No, I don’t. Come on, big guy. You and I have a date with the doctor.”

 

 

When Liscus saw the apparition of a vomit smelling Shepard practically carrying Garrus Vakarian slumped over her shoulder, he slammed down the emergency button several times to alert the medical staff. With only a short delay, doctor Publius came running down the hall, eyes searching for the incoming crisis, and his eyes narrowed when they landed on Shepard.

“You,” he hissed and reached into his pocket for another tranquilizer syringe. “What have you done this time?”

Shepard looked bewildered until she saw the needle in his talons, and flared a biotic shield one one hand, using the other to keep keep Garrus from falling down.

“Hey, hey, easy,” she said out loud, and it could be directed to either turian in her vicinity.

“What did you do to him,” Publius repeated angrily.

“Shhheparrrd liikes mee,” Garrus’ strangled purr said before she could answer the doctor. “We’re fffrriends nowwww.” The last sound was a deep unsteady rumble.

“He’s drunk,” Publius stated and stared at her. “Did you get him drunk? Have you taken advantage of him?”

“What? No!” she gasped.

“Yhes,” Garrus chirruped.

Between Shepard’s shocked expression and Garrus’ haywire subvocals, Publius didn’t know what to think. Placing the needle back in his pocket, he motioned to Garrus. She deactivated her shield, and Publius got close and together they hoisted Garrus up for transport.

“Help me get him to the emergency room, Shepard. And so help me, if you’ve done anything untoward to him, I’ll..”

“Stab me with that syringe, yeah, I know. Let’s help him first, all right?”

 

Shepard talked like a motormouth while Publius checked Garrus’ vitals and took blood samples. The horosk in particular worried him, as the young turian appeared to have mixed levo beer with turian horosk, creating a rather original reaction to the two types. Vakarian seemed enthralled by the human, longingly reaching for her whenever she had to step back during his examinations, and he keened when she shortly left to change her vomit soaked pants. When he’d finished taking the last sample, she was back at the young Vakarian’s side and spoke softly to him. Publius wondered if he was hallucinating himself. This level of care was a complete reversal to her attempt to injure him in the reception, and it didn’t seem like it was affected or for his benefit. When he attempted to get Garrus to swallow the fluids that would flush his system, he blatantly refused to take it until Shepard gently insisted that it was for his own benefit. After that he took it obediently. It had the side effect of making him drowsy, and Publius had other patients to check on. Shepard promised to stay by Garrus’ side until he returned, and she sat down beside the bed and tried to exchange pillow talk with a semi-conscious turian.

When he returned with the test results, Shepard got up, looking anxious.

“Is he okay?”

“He will be now. If you hadn’t brought him in, he might’ve suffered kidney failure. We’ll flush out the toxins and he’ll be good as new.” Publius caught Shepard’s eyes. “He might not remember all of tonight.”

A cynical smile curled in the corner of her mouth. “Of course he wont. We just agreed to settle our differences and work together, it makes sense with my luck that he can’t recall any of that tomorrow.”

“And you.. really didn’t get him drunk? You didn’t.. touch him?” Publius had to ask.

“No! I’d never to that to anyone under my command, and certainly not against their will.” She glared at him.

Publius chuffed, relieved. “I believe you. It’s just the way he kept talking to an about you. Made me think you’d been intimate.”

“No, we just talked. Oh, and he did that thing with our foreheads, but it’s no big deal,” she said in an off handed manner.

“No big deal?” Publius said astounded. “He told you he’s fond of you and it’s no big deal?”

“Fond of?” Shepard’s eyes widened. “Is that how turians kiss? Is that what he did?”

“He did it. I see,” Publius sighed. “Look, Shepard, that is a big deal to turians, they express fondness and trust with the gesture you so flippantly call ‘thing with foreheads.’ I’m surprised you don’t know this, considering.”

“Considering what?” Shepard asked in a suspicious tone.

“I have a patient that came in here and asked about bonding with a human.” Publius said, flicking his mandibles. “Your name came up. Patient confidentiality prevents me from saying more, but it led me to believe you might be more familiar with our ways than you let on.”

“Really?” He saw the tendons in her jaw tense.

“My patient confidentiality extends to you too. And considering you’re not denying the claim, I think it’s prudent to run a few test on you as well. Such a thing is unheard of in Citadel space, for good reason.” He pushed her over to an examination table and pulled out swabs and blood vials. “I’m very interested in your physiological response to the turian bonding pheromone. Sit still,” he snapped when Shepard tried to pull her wrist away from him. He jerked the shirt up, and saw burn marks and scars cover her arm.

“This is..” he began, but she cut him off.

“Nothing! If you want your blood samples and your saliva swabs, you’ll keep quiet about this. It’s between me and Vyrnnus, nobody else.”

“My responsibility as a doctor-...” he tried again, but again she stopped him.

“Is to the well-being of your patient. I’m telling you, as that patient, I’m well. You can either believe me and get first hand knowledge to a new phenomenon, or you can press on about this, in which case I’ll get Vyrnnus to tell you to back off. He wont be as polite as I am.”

“Difficult, aren’t you,” Publius said. “All right. But if I see that you are putting yourself in mortal danger out there, I will haul your ass back in here for a full examination, agreed? And you owe me brain scans as well.”

“Fine,” Shepard muttered.

Publius used a little more force than necessary when he jabbed her with the needle, but Shepard barely narrowed her eyes and continued to stare at the sleeping Garrus.

“How much will he remember?”

“How much do you remember after a night of binge drinking? It varies. Sometimes the whole day is gone, sometimes glimpses remain.”

“I don’t binge drink that often,” she said. “The occasional party in summer holidays. If you think security here is rigid, you should see my mothers liquor cabinet. It’s like Purgatory.”

Publius chuffed. “I can imagine.”

“Hey, doc… Can you keep this drinking thing under wraps? Garrus, I mean.”

“Shepard, that’s not.. I can’t lie about having him admitted here.”

“No, but you could say there was a lingering infection after that turian flu.”

He crossed his arms and stared at her.

“Why would you ask me to lie on behalf of this boy? You’ve never liked him before. Quite the opposite.”

“I’m aware. It’s just.. he had a vid-call from Palaven today. It really upset him. I think it made him drink all that stuff.”

“What was the call about?”

“I’d.. rather not say. It would be a breach of trust, even if he doesn’t remember it. Let’s just say I have a better understanding of him, and myself after tonight,” she said and met his eyes with a firm gaze.

“And if I say no?”

“Then I’ll say he suffers from levo poisoning after I tried to kiss him the human way,” she grinned at him.

“Spirits, not that. The Executor would arrive to arrest you himself.”

Shepard shrugged and smiled. “Those are your choices.”

Publius’ scientific curiosity won out over the need to file a rapport on teenage drinking.

“My scans. Tomorrow after class,” he said and picked up a saliva swab.

He kept her there for 20 minutes before letting her go back to her barracks, after assuring her that Garrus would be kept under close observation for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we have a meeting of minds, and what troubled minds they are. :) It's about time Shepard had to take a look at what her actions brings for her fellow squad mates. 
> 
> On a different note, have anyone else seen the hashtag makejaalbi? I'm probably only fanning flames here, but I'm somewhat conflicted about this. On one hand, yes, some romances are longer than others and aren't quite as explicit, (not only m/m), on the other hand, I'm no big fan of character/story rewrites after the game is released. It opens up a whole can of worms for future demands. To those that say he was written bi to start with, you can't claim that two lines of early scrapped code and one line of spoken dialogue from Scott implies a whole character romance arc. I personally think it'd be better if they a) improved the existing romances, and/or b) created a whole new entirely gay character for Scott to romance that wasn't a cut and paste job from a romance that's clearly catering to the female eye. (We all know Jaal's supposed to be Garrus 2.0, with a fairytale romance and not all the angst/dying/hurt that was Archangel.) My personal vote? A completely gay krogan romance. I'd make a maleRyder faster than you could say Tuchanka. Just my two cents. If you want to debate this, you're welcome, just keep it civil. Happy weekend!


	24. Dawn of disbelief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus is having jumbled epiphanies, and Shepard is running damage control on many turians.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wee smidgen of NSFW, but nothing too great.  
> 'suavis tactu' is a latin phrase for 'sweet touch', since I wanted to call the headbump-thing something other than 'that headbump-thing.'  
> I wanted to go with 'gentle touch' in latin, but lo and behold, some music band got there before me. Sigh..

**2174 CE – December 21 st – Corinthus’ office – 06:45 AM**

“Do you know why you’re here, Shepard?” Corinthus said with a sigh.

“I can make an educated guess, sir.”

“There was a break-in in the officer’s mess yesterday, and some alcohol was stolen. We suspect turians, since a bottle of horosk is also missing. My gizzard says your team.”

“Really, sir?”

“Oh yes. One student has been admitted to the sick bay with-..” he glanced at the rapport in front of him, “latent infection from early exposure. How strange that the medical information for this particular turian also shows that he took an immuno-booster and avoided the flu altogether.” He looked up from the datapad and raised a browplate at her.

“Was there a point to this, sir?”

“The carpet on Gagarin is rather large, but half the stuff under there is you and your squad. When is this going to stop?”

“Right now, sir. Vakarian and I will work together as a team from now on, you have my word on it. Any lingering issues between us, we’ll resolve it in the team.”

“This was one of your lingering issues?”

“Yes, sir. We’ve fixed them now. Vakarian had a little talk with his father, and, well.. uh, he got a little depressed. I have this in hand, sir.”

Corinthus sighed again and dropped back in the chair. “You have what, seven months left here, Shepard? When I see your shuttle leave Gagarin for the last time, I’ll drink what’s left of this station’s horosk by myself.” He leaned forward again and shot her a penetrative stare. “No more trouble from you or your squad, do I make myself clear?”

“Of course, sir. No more, sir.” Shepard barked while standing to attention.

“Good. You may leave.”

When Shepard marched out, Corinthus rubbed his crest and had a rare moment of self-pity. Shepard and Vakarian was going to be the death of him.

 

**2174 CE – December 21 st – Med Bay – 09:48 AM**

When Garrus woke, he had a distinct feeling of being in the wrong place. His eyelids were stuck together, and the place smelled and sounded wrong. Not enough clattering talon feet and jabbering voices. The first thing he did was try and lift his hands to his face to clear his eyes, and was surprised to find his arms so heavy and sluggish. The hand that landed on his faceplates almost poked him in one eye. Something was definitely wrong. The next thing he noted was that his throat was parched. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and he felt like he’d swallowed an entire desert. Garrus tried opening his crusted eyes, and the light flooding his retina caused his head to explode in an ocean of agony. Letting out a pained squawk, he rolled over and tried to shield himself from the light as best he could.

The noise alerted a nearby nurse. She peeked quickly inside the doorway, and left to get a flask of water and a few painkillers. Upon her return, Garrus drank greedily and wolfed down the pills, before smiling gratefully at her. She had her long locks in a pony tail, and when she leaned over he caught a whiff of her hair. It was scented with an earth perfume many of the humans seemed to like, an earth flower called rose. She smelled nothing like Shepard's, Shepard was more like the grass in the meadow at his grandparents place. Garrus laid back on the bed. What happened yesterday? He talked to his father, stole that booze, and then.. What? He desperately tried to remember, before another thought weaseled its way into his mind, making his body go rigid. _Shepard’s fringe!_ How did he know that?! He’d never allowed himself to sniff her. Not even in training. Not once. So how could he possibly know that?

Garrus tried feverishly to make his brain remember, but there were hours missing from his memory. He’d gone to the bar and stolen the beer and horosk, then… a rifle? He’d taken a rifle from the armory? Why? What had he done? The stress of not remembering caused his heart-rate to increase rapidly and the monitor on the side of the bed gave an alarming beep. He was too distracted to remove the sensor on his chest, and after a few minutes, doctor Publius appeared. Publius turned off the alarm and made some notes on a datapad.

“How are we feeling this morning, Vakarian?”

“That’s.. a good question,” Garrus said carefully. “How, uh, how should I be feeling?”

“Ashamed at being carried in here like a fledgling in his mother’s cowl, and hung over, but beside that, not too bad, would be my guess.”

“Carried in here? By whom?” Garrus dreaded the answer.

“Your illustrious squad leader. Quite frankly, I thought it was her fault that you ended up in that mess, but apparently you did that all by yourself. Congratulations.”

Garrus suspected this wasn’t the usual pillow talk a sick student got, but he wasn’t really sick, just suffering the aftermath of drinking.

“Am I in trouble,” he asked and looked down at the sheets.

“For what? Being ill is not a crime,” Publius said in a deliberate dense tone.

“You know what I meant. For the.. the drinking.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Publius said again in a tone like he was speaking to a child. "This datapad says infection, and nothing else. Although you might owe your squad leader a new pair of sweatpants. The ones she carried you in with yesterday was ruined by regurgitation.”

The alarm on the monitor went off again, and Publius gave Garrus a deliberating look. Garrus himself was close to hyperventilating, and tried to control his breathing. It failed. He’d gotten himself drunk and spewed all over Shepard! Oh spirits! Oh ancestors. Oh titans of Palaven, she was going to tear off his dermal plates one by one.

“Are you joking?” he gasped between breaths. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“No joke, I’m afraid. I don’t think she’s angry about that, she sat with you for an hour while I had to check on other patients.”

“That can’t be true,” Garrus whined in a high pitched tone, “did you have to resuscitate me when you came back?”

“Vakarian, don’t be so dramatic. Shepard merely kept an eye on you until you were sleeping, and asked if you would be okay.”

“Bet she was sad when you said yes,” Garrus murmured.

“Garrus Vakarian, that is enough!” Publius barked. “I’ve never heard so much drivel in a short time. Shepard was nothing but helpful and polite, and believe me, after your last incident in this hospital, I kept looking for any sign of the opposite. Instead, she sat here and held your paw while I tried to remedy the strange concoction of liquids you’d decided to use to poison your system. I’m quite frankly astounded by the level of hostility you throw at her, considering what you di-..” he trailed off as he saw Garrus’ horrified expression. “Never mind about that. Better for you to remember in your own time,” he said dismissively. He took some more notes and laid out some more pills for his patient, told him that he had to stay for the rest of the day and that visiting hours were after classes, then left with a grumble.

Garrus was thunderstruck. Publius had no reason to lie to him, unlike many others on the station. Shepard had dragged him to the hospital and apparently tended to him while he was out cold. And he’d regurgitated all over her. What made it worse, was the nagging sensation that he should’ve remembered the ‘deed’ Publius alluded to, because it was important, and the hazy memory was stuck behind a dark cloud, but felt like it was just at the tip of his tongue. What had he done? What had he said? Why was he not informed that his conduct was unbecoming and thrown out of here. Yesterday the information of his clan disgrace had almost broken him, but in the light of a new day he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay, to trade barbs with Mevia, spar with Argyle, laugh with Aius and see the look on Shepard’s face change from anger to proud approval. Shepard’s face.. had some amazing big gray eyes up close. Garrus winced and looked around, as if anyone was present and could spy on his thoughts. Visiting hours was several hours away, and he hoped some of his squadmates would come to see him. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to see Shepard, he wasn’t a glutton for punishment. But perhaps she wasn’t that upset? Maybe she would only yell at him? Did she expect them to report to Corinthus together on his behavior? It took a few seconds to realize that the keening subvocals in the room was his own, and he clamped down on it, feeling ashamed. Spirits, he was such a wimp.

 

**2174 CE – December 21 st – Med Bay Entrance – 15:45 PM**

The squad was assembled in front of her, and Shepard decided to do one last check.

“What did we agree on? Aius, I’m looking right at you!”

Aius shimmied awkwardly under her stare. “We’re not to make fun of Garrus for this, because we’re supporting him,” he echoed her earlier speech.

“Good. Mevia?”

Mevia sighed and crossed her arms. “We’re not going to make a big deal out of the fact that we had to clean up all the broken glass after his drunken idiocy.”

Shepard coughed and gave her a stern glare.

Mevia raised her hands in defeat. “Not in those words, of course.”

“Fantastic. Argyle?”

“We’re to take it easy on Garrus in training the first couple of days, because he also has maintenance duty to deal with.”

Shepard smiled. “Almost there. Strabo?”

Strabo sighed. “We’re not to spread around that Garrus was drinking, just say it was the flu. Though how you managed to persuade the doc and the captain on that, you didn’t say.”

“Good. Now that’s all squared away, we can go in.”

“Wait a minute,” Aius protested, “why didn’t Castor or Nirea get asked anything?”

“Because they’re the nice ones on this team, and I know who the troublemakers are, Aius Uticensis. Now get your plated butt inside.”

Castor and Nirea snickered at Aius as they passed him. “Brown-nosers,” he murmured, but joined their snickering three seconds later.

 

“Hey, Garrus, the turian who is always late,” Aius announced as he entered the room. “How’s your form?”

“I’m a lot better, thanks,” Garrus replied and surveyed the squad as they piled inside. Six people and one patient was too many for the space allotted, and he registered with mixed relief and disappointment that Shepard didn’t fit into the now crammed room. Was she not around?

“Are, uh, are all of you here?” he asked carefully.

“Yep. Shepard is right behind us, she said something about saying hello to that Santiago fellow from squad three, you know, the leader? He’s in the room next door with a sprained wrist,” Argyle said.

“Is Santiago good looking for a human?” Strabo asked. “He is rather big and bulky.”

“If you like the strong and dark-haired type, I guess,” Argyle shrugged.

“He’s a moron,” Garrus snapped with more intensity than he had intended. He didn’t have anything particular against Santiago, but for some reason his plates itched by the fact that the human was considered attractive.

“What? Why?” Nirea gave him a disapproving look. “Santiago’s never done anything to us.”

“He hasn’t, but that squad of his has,” Garrus muttered.

“Yes, but he came down pretty hard on Erikson after that,” Strabo added. “We can give the guy a chance. Shepard certainly has.”

Garrus wasn’t the least bit happy about that, but was unwilling to think closer as to the reason why.

“How was today’s training?” he asked instead.

“It was awesome,” Castor smiled. “Shepard got permission from the captain to fight on the field with bean bag guns, and we wiped out squad 9.”

“Aaaaww, come on!” Garrus whined. “I’m in here and you do something fun! That’s not fair.”

“Not our fault you’re in here with-.. the flu,” Mevia finished after catching the stern look from Strabo.

“Ah, yeah.. the flu.. right,” Garrus said lamely, and everyone in the room tried looking everywhere else than at each other. The awkward silence lasted for a full minute, until there was a knock at the door, and Shepard’s voice carried through. “Is there room for one more?”

The squad looked at each other and chorused affirmatively, then as quickly as they piled in, they nodded to Garrus and piled out, leaving him at the mercy of their squad leader. Garrus’ mandibles twitched nervously. The hour of reckoning was upon him.

“Hi Garrus, how are you feeling?” Shepard smiled at him and sat down next to the bed.

This was a ruse, it had to be. She was just waiting to pounce on him, right?

“I’m fine,” he said giving her several quick glances and looking down just as fast.

“Good. You had me worried there for a moment. And you don’t have to worry about captain Corinthus, I’ve managed to smooth things over with him.” She left him a long pause so he could jump into the conversation, but her words left him speechless. Shepard had fought for him? What unholy spirits had caused that to happen?

“Okay, moving on,” she continued after perceiving she would get no reply on that subject, “how much do you remember about yesterday? Do you remember the silo?”

After clearing his throat he found some remaining brainpower to answer. “A rifle?” he guessed.

Shepard chuckled. “Yes, there was that. You were taking pot shots at beer bottles. Quite a lot of glass in there.”

“Spirits, I’m going to have to clean that up, don’t I?” he said miserably.

“Nope, I got some help for that. The rifle is back on its rack too. No worries.”

The feeling of nervousness was almost making him shiver. Why was she doing this?

“That’s.. all done?”

“Mhm. I fixed it. You just focus on getting out of here, I got the rest.”

The next question would be unbelievably embarrassing, but he had to know.

“Did I.. throw up on you?” His neck flushed a deep blue.

To his amazement, Shepard merely chuckled again. “Yes, you did do that. Horosk and beer doesn’t mix very well, does it. Don’t worry about it, I’m no worse for wear.”

“Doctor Publius said I did something, but he wouldn’t say what,” Garrus said.

“Did he? How much do you remember after the rifle, Garrus?”

“Not much,” he conceded. “It’s like hours is just gone.”

“I think we should wait until those hours catches up with you to talk about what happened. It’s.. difficult to explain. I’d hardly believed it myself unless I was there.”

“No, now! Please, just tell me,” he pleaded.

Shepard sighed. “Short version? You got drunk, shot at bottles, threatened to shoot me when I got on the silo, you put down the rifle, we talked and agreed to get along better. How’s that?”

“That’s.. unbelievable. As in I don’t believe it. What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything, as much as I am waiting for some of the details to catch up to you. Garrus, whatever you told me up on that roof, I’d never tell anyone else. Especially what regards your father.”

“My father?” Garrus voice was cold. “What did I tell you about my father?”

The thought of Shepard knowing about what his father told him would give her a huge advantage over him, not to mention she’d know his shame. He begged the spirits that this was not the case.

“I think that’s enough for now. We’ll talk about it later.”

“That’s it, is it? You pumped me for information when I was drunk, and now you want to lord it over me later?”

Shepard started coughing and put her hand over her mouth at the word pumped, but Garrus was beginning to seethe again and didn’t reflect on his choice of words, just stared at her, daring her to answer.

“No. You owe me nothing for this, and I won’t use it against you later. You have my word.”

“I don’t put a lot of stock in your promises, Shepard.”

“Well, then I just have to show you,” she said with a neutral tone.

She wasn’t even annoyed with him provoking her, and that angered him even more. “What did I tell you?” he asked again.

“Nothing that made me think any less of you. Ask me again when you remember more.”

“You didn’t think much of me to begin with.” Garrus knew he was trying to provoke another fight now, but her calm demeanor was infuriating. At his last comment, she cocked her head to one side as if she waited for a follow up comment from him, like there was something he knew, and that niggling feeling in the back of his mind grew worse.

“You really don’t remember,” she said sadly. “I hope it, well, most of it comes back soon. In the meantime, take it easy and don’t overexert yourself.

He scoffed and looked away, but the anger left him unsatisfied. Earlier, his anger towards Shepard could carry him through the roughest exercises, now it felt empty. She’d somehow stripped him of that too. Horrible human.

“Garrus, whenever yesterday comes back to you, or parts of it, come find me any time. I’ll make time for you whenever you need it.” She got up to leave.

Garrus was conflicted, on one hand he wanted to tell her to fuck off and never speak to him again, on the other hand, having her around was.. was.. he had no words for it. Just that she wreaked havoc with his entire being, and how dared she? He never asked for this.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Shepard said and turned back. “I have something for you.”

“Don’t want anything from you,” he said, and he heard how petty it sounded.

“Good thing it’s not from me then,” she smiled and pulled out a small rectangular packet that he immediately identified. His gift from home.

“Here.”

She held it out to him, but he made no effort to take it.

“Go on, it’s yours. I have to bail, not supposed to stay too long here. Apparently I make Publius nervous and have to check in with him to make sure I haven’t done anything wrong,” she said and grinned at him. Garrus blinked slowly, flicking his eyes between her and the packet. Finally she shook her head slightly, and pushed the gift into his talons.

“Just don’t shoot at it again, you hear me? It fell on my head when I was about to climb that silo, and I knew something was wrong. You never miss, you’re just too good.”

At that he met her eyes and held them, confusion and bewilderment shining in his blue ones, against the comforting warmth of her gray.

“Garrus, it’ll be all right. We’ll figure this out, whatever you need.” She gave him a nod and left him alone with with his thoughts.

He stared at the packet and started to breathe faster, as if he’d run rounds around the track. The niggling feeling of forgetfulness had been joined with another feeling of deja vu. He’d lived this before. He’d seen this scene play out another time, another place, but his brain refused to cooperate. Instead it shut down and started giving out white hot lightning stabs of pain. Garrus gave up and picked up a pair of painkillers left by the nurse, unwrapped them and swallowed them without an afterthought. Perhaps a little sleep would help him unravel yesterday’s events. In the meantime he could check what his parents had sent him. Using a talon, he sliced open the bag and a small box with the inscription ‘Kuwashii.’ When he popped it open, it was a custom visor, possible to upgrade without changing the frame, perfect for a sniper. It had to be his mother’s doing. He remembered talking about something like this before he left, his mother had stroked his fringe and said ‘we’ll see.’ And he almost destroyed it because he was mad at his father. Spirits, how stupid could he get? Shepard had saved his father’s present. He blinked. Father’s? He meant mother, surely. Another white searing flash of pain made him jerk his head. Damn those slow pills. If only Shepard was here to pat his cowl. He blinked again. _Shepard?_ What the blazes? His _mother!_ Mother, not Shepard. It was the pills. Had to be. They scrambled his mind and caused him to make mistakes like this. Garrus laid back on the bed and fluffed the pillow to better support his fringe. A few hours of sleep and he’d feel a lot better. Just before he fell asleep, he remembered something else.

Since when did Shepard call him Garrus?!

  

**2174 CE – December 21 st – Library – 20:06 PM**

When she entered the library and climbed the stairs to the second floor, she could see Chellick sitting in her usual place, waiting for her lessons with the commander to end. However, Captain Vyrnnus had unexpectedly left the station again, and nobody knew why, but she didn’t complain. It meant she had time to have a little fun with her boyfriend, and she crouched down, pulled a newly made ‘mating stick’ out of her bag and stealthed along a line of shelves. Chellick was too absorbed in his datapad to notice her, and when she was about two meters behind him, she swung the stick and hit in the back of his fringe with a soft ‘whack’.

“Hey!! What the..!”

The chair toppled over and the table was pushed back with force as he fought his way to his feet. He glared around until he found the culprit, doubled over in a fit of laughter.

“It’s the time of the mating stick,” Shepard gasped between snickers, “You have to come with me to my cave.”

“You!” he said, struggling to decide between happiness and accusation. “How dare you sneak up in innocent turians to have your way with them? Have you no shame?”

“Nope,” she grinned and was in his arms the next second, eagerly seeking his mouth plates for a hot kiss. Chellick generously obliged, he loved to taste his human girlfriend, much more than he’d let on to Emerus and Celsus, lest they got ideas of their own. When they broke for air, he pulled her even closer and hummed against her hair.

“How did it go with your little rebel? Celsus told me you was roped in by one of your squad members yesterday, and since Vakarian was not on the field today..”

“He’s better. Some trouble from home, but I hope we got that sorted out.”

“That’s not all there is to the story, is it?”

“Nah, but it’s between Garrus and me. I can’t tell on him, even to you.”

“I’d never ask you to, just checking how my girlfriend’s day was going,” he purred and sniffed her hair while rubbing his face in it. Turians had a real obsession with fringes, she mused and stroked her fingers along his waist. The purr deepened.

“So, I just have to ask. What does it mean when a turian presses his or hers forehead to someone else’s forehead?”

The purr stopped instantly.

“Why do you ask?” Chellick said in a suspicious tone.

“Uh, no reason.”

“Jane, don’t skirt the truth on this. Not on this topic.”

“Someone may or may not have put their forehead to mine,” she said tentatively.

“Basically, someone _did_ ,” Chellick said, and Shepard had rarely heard him get so angry so fast.

“It was that Vakarian boy, wasn’t it? I’ll rip his talons off.”

She took a step back and stared at him. Where did this rage come from?

“You will do no such thing, Decian Chellick! What happened was between me and him, it has nothing to do with you.”

“It has everything to do with me,” he snarled. “suavis tactu is not for casual encounters.”

“I haven’t had any ‘casual’ encounters since I met you, so careful what you assume,” she warned.

Chellick’s mandibles twitched in anger, and he clenched and unclenched his talons in a disturbing way.

“Not you,” he hissed. “Him! How dare he!”

“Okay, someone needs to calm the fuck down,” Shepard said testily. “Garrus wasn’t.. completely in his right mind when he did it, and you need to let this go.”

“No! It’s disrespectful. What do you mean, not in his right mind?” Chellick gave her a disbelieving stare.

Shepard took one of his clenched hands and entwined her soft fingers around his talons so he could no longer sharpen them. She placed the other around his waist, sneaking her fingers into his shirt in a very unsubtle way of trying to distract him. Chellick saw the blatant attempt for what it was, but was helplessly suckered into it and pressed into her hand.

“What I’m about to tell you can go no further, its’ between us, all right?” she said, kneading the soft hide under her fingertips.

“Mmmpgh, yes,” he agreed, sounding less angry by the second.

“Garrus was drunk off his hind plates when he did it,” she said and continued to knead his waist, “and today he had no recollection of the whole thing.” She leaned her forehead to the side of his keel bone. “The worst part was, we’d agreed to stop fighting, and he remembers none of that either. He’s still just as angry as he was two days ago.”

“I.. see,” Chellick said and swallowed, trying to focus on her words and not her hand. “You know I know you’re trying to manipulate me, right?” he said with a strangled chuckle.

“Oh I know. It’s working too,” she smiled at him.

“Mmph, sadly, yes,” He was back to purring again. “It’s just.. the suavis tactu is for serious relationships, for promises and loved ones. I should have been the first turian to do that, since I was your first turian to.. to...” he stopped, unsure of where to go from here.

Shepard struggled to keep a straight face. “Have me?” she said with a look of innocence.

“Spirits, yes,” he moaned as she ghosted his groin plates with the other hand.

“How about we let that poor forgetful turian in the hospital be, and you can have me as many times you want tonight,” she said and continued her teasing of his plates. They were loosening up as she spoke.

“Uuuh, a hard bargain,” he said trying to remain stern.

“Looks like I’ll be getting the hard bargain soon,” Shepard smiled, and licked his left mandible. This teasing was having an effect on her too, and she hoped nobody else would come into the library.

“I have… I have a condom,” Chellick moaned.

“Good. Put it on then,” Shepard smiled and released him, then walked over to the table he’d pushed away, pulled down her undersuit and hopped up on it. Chellick quickly fished out the condom, pulled down his own suit and rolled it on, then he was taking his rightful place between her legs and pushed her back on the table. “Spirits, I could smell you from a mile away,” he growled and lined up against her. Shepard closed her eyes and let herself get swept away with the current as Chellick pushed himself inside her to the hilt, and cast a silent prayer to his spirits that they would not be disturbed.

 

**2174 CE – December 21 st – Med Bay – 01:17 AM**

Garrus woke with a start and sat bolt upright in bed. The images in his dreams were still vivid as if it played out right in front of him, but with no apparent meaning. They were jumbled and scattered, sharp edges that he cut himself on whenever he tried to focus, nothing but small pieces of a whole he couldn’t fathom. He saw himself, pointing a rifle at Shepard, then a sudden shift to a memory when Shepard said she liked him the day they met, another shift and they were floating down from a great height, her arms wrapped around him in a safe embrace. The even more confusing part were childhood memories he’d almost forgot, standing on the Presidium walkways and dreaming of going to the top, having his marking day present both stolen and returned by an alien. It was a mess, and he tried to steady his heavy breathing, telling himself they were nothing but silly dreams. They weren’t connected with real life, he assured himself, not in.. any… way… Another image reappeared, himself locked with Shepard in suavis tactu, staring into the warmth of those gray eyes. Like the eyes of the alien that had returned his scope that day. A human girl. With.. with a krogan guardian.. His brain struggled to catch up as he mouthed the words; _‘Go on, it’s yours. I gotta bail, not supposed to do that to other kids.’_ Oh no.. Oh no no no no no… This wasn’t real. It was a bad dream. The alien he’d admired as a child for standing up to bullies was _Shepard_? The worst bully on the station?

‘ _I’m sorry I hurt you, Garrus. There’s not a thing in my life I regret more.’_

“No,” he whispered to the dark. “It never happened. She would never admit to that.”

“ _Actually, I… I wish that we could get along better. I don’t expect you to want us to be friends, but we can..Well, I know I can stop being such an asshole to you at all times. What do you think?”_

By all the spirits, what had happened up there on that roof? None of this made any sense.

His breath hitched as one last image formed in his head. Himself, reaching out in despair for the only living creature in his vicinity that had shown any empathy for him, hiding his shame in her neck and clinging to her like she could stop him from drowning.

‘ _It’s okay, I got you. I got you, big guy. We’ll fix this. Its’ you and me, against the rest.’_

Garrus almost forgot to breathe. She’d held him like a fledgling while he bawled on her shoulder, and never said a word against him. This wasn’t like her. And crying on her shoulder was nothing like him.

He needed the anger towards her to fuel his fight, but today she’d rolled with the punches and accepted ever poke and barb with an amicable smile. He needed her angry, he needed the distance. He definitely needed to unknow what her fringe smelled like, but he could never take that back. Shepard was still one of those people that got away with everything, one moment of weakness on his part didn’t change this. Garrus ignored every argument in Shepard's favor. He was humiliated, angry, confused, and he found he could blame all of this on Shepard. Just because she was nice, didn’t mean he had to accept this. It was too late. She would learn that as soon as he got out of here.

They would _never_ be friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a little difficult figuring out which way Garrus would go on this, but I don't think he would just come running back to Shepard after months of abuse. However, Shepard had her piece of humble pie in chapter 23, and I think Garrus will have his in chapter 25, learning that the owls are not what they seem. Aaand I'm having a lot of fun writing Garrus as a confused mess :D
> 
> On a second note, I've just spent 3 hours fighting with my new WiFi router, and in the end I could swear the damn thing has an evil giggle every time i turn my back to it. "Oh, you think I'll let you surf AO3? iiihihihihihihihihhiii!! CLICK!"  
> Begone, Satan!


	25. Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus is deliberately causing trouble for the squad, and while the team struggles, they unearth something much more sinister.

 

**2174 CE – December 25 st – Field Exercise – 11:03 AM**

Squad Four was having a really bad day. They’d been having a joint game of tool-tag with squad three, and the cooperation, to put it blunt; sucked. The meaning behind the squad merger was clear, to work on the animosity between Squad Four and Three, but while the two separate teams themselves had a hard time working together, the unity in Squad Four was struggling worse. Garrus was doing his utmost to piss off Shepard, and while she mostly ignored his outbursts, she’d also forbidden the rest of the squad to lash out at him. Mevia in particular resented this turn of events, as she saw Garrus’ upstart pretensions as a threat to her own flawless record. She really wanted to shake his crest loose.

“Vakarian, why are you not in position,” she whispered over the comms.

“I found a better spot, moving there now,” he reported back.

“No! Get back to your assigned position, if you leave, Nirea won’t be covered!”

“I’ll only take a second,” he hissed back.

“Follow orders! You little..”

There was a loud beep, and Nirea was out of the game.

“Dammit! Vakarian, that’s on you!” Mivea yelled.

“If you hadn’t distracted me, I would’ve gotten there on time,” he shouted back.

“Knock it off, you two,” came Shepard’s stern voice on the comms, “make do with what we have left. We’ll discuss the loss of Nirea later.”

“Bet your plates we are,” Strabo said and glared at Vakarian’s new position. It was undoubtedly a better spot, but they were one turian down by his hasty decision. Garrus had no right to flaunt orders and do whatever he pleased on the battlefield no matter how upset he was with their leader.

“Everything under control, Shepard?” Santiago sounded concerned.

“Just a minor disagreement, we’ll deal with it,” she replied calmly.

“Whatever..” Garrus less than tactful reply was heard over the open channel.

There was no other sound in the observation room other than Shepard’s fingers tapping furiously at her terminal. Santiago wisely refrained from speaking. This was an internal matter on Four, and he would not get involved for all the nutri-bars on the station.

 

**2174 CE – December 25 st – Classroom 2 – 17:49 PM**

“What were you thinking, Vakarian?” Mevia was the first in the room to voice what the rest of the squad was thinking.

“The position I chose was better for the layout of the field,” Garrus said defiantly. “I could have covered the entire squad from up there.”

“Except you didn’t,” Nirea growled and pointed and accusing talon at him. “I got killed, and that’s on you!”

“That was because Mevia slowed me down.”

“Don’t you fucking dare blame me for this,” Mevia roared. “I’m not the one making up the rules as I go along. You follow orders in the field, or else we’re all dead.”

“The orders were wrong,” Garrus shouted back.

“Why do you think orders were wrong,” Shepard said in a dead calm tone. The squad stopped bickering at once and stared at Garrus.

“Because… because I would had line of sight to everyone, and could have covered our backs without exposing myself to the enemy.” He met her eyes with a glare, daring her to contradict him.

“You’re right, it was the better position.”

Garrus smirked.

“Which is why a member of squad Three was on her way from the east to take that position and provide cover for all of us. You took it upon yourself to think your superiors was not aware of this, and acted prematurely. As a result, one of your teammates is dead.”

The smirk vanished. “Oh.” Garrus glanced around at his squad mates who were glaring at him. “I didn’t know.”

“No, because you weren’t supposed to know, you were supposed to follow orders.” Usually Nirea was the mediating one on the team, but right now she was angry.

“Hey guys, let’s take things down a notch.” Argyle stepped between the two turians. “We all learned something today, that’s the important thing.”

“Argyle’s right. What’s done is done. Only fivex remains until the field exam in February, and teamwork will be the deciding factor.” Shepard smiled her lopsided grin that made her cut lip curl upward. “In the field exam I will be participating with you, so we need to practice the chain of command. Mistakes are allowed in training, not on the field. Okay? We’re not pointing any more fingers today, just hit the showers and get some food. Garrus, you have other duties to attend to.”

“Off course I do,” he mumbled and skulked out of the classroom.

After he left, Strabo turned to Shepard. “You let him get away with too much!”

“Strabo, you don’t now the whole history, let him run it off in a harmless way before the exam. If he doesn’t improve his attitude before fivex, I’ll have another word with him.”

“If he doesn’t shape up, we can ‘friendly fire’ him on day one of the field exam,” Mevia grumbled.

“I did not hear that,” Shepard said loudly as she walked out.

 

**2174 CE – December 25 st – Mess Hall – 21:12 PM**

The meat on the tray in front of him was steaming hot, and kheelie was one of Garrus’ favorites, but he had no appetite. He kept shoving the meat strips around the plate, too annoyed to eat them. Why hadn’t she yelled at him today? He’d done something stupid and reckless, and she’d let him off with hardly a talking to. Why couldn’t she be like her old self? Instead, he was caught between self-loathing for showing weakness in front of her, and anger towards her for allowing him to do it. She should have pushed him away. Shouted at him. Called him a weakling and laughed at him, not.. not cuddling him like a fledgling, like a friend. The memories of that fateful night had returned in full, and the humiliation he felt over his actions threatened to suffocate him whenever he thought about it. The warbling, the forehead press, throwing up in her lap, his drunken ravings about Shepard being his friend, all of it stuffed in his gizzard like gravel. For the last five days, nothing he did caused her the consternation she caused him. Garrus stabbed a piece of meat with his fork. Stupid food. Stupid Shepard.

“Have you cooled down yet?” Castor had appeared and sat down beside him.

“I’m not bothered by today,” Garrus blatantly lied.

“Good. Now this is probably a waste of time, but the rest of us are planning on giving Shepard something for the human holiday, since she gave us those treats on unification day, remember?”

“She never did that, that was Nirea,” Garrus said dismissively.

“Uh, no, that was Shepard,” Castor said smiling, “she was in the quarantine bay and gave us a whole bag.”

“Then why did Nirea.. oh..” Garrus’ eyes narrowed. “She tricked me!”

“Who, Nirea?”

“Both of them! They lured me to eat something from Shepard!”

Castor rolled his eyes. “Oh yes, a conspiracy theory for the ages. Cruel Shepard tricks Vakarian to have a snack. Get over yourself, Garrus, she didn’t mean any harm, and it was a nice gesture.”

“I don’t want nice,” Garrus said testily.

“Okay then. I’m guessing you won’t chip in a vendor token for a couple of nutri-bars for Shepard?”

“No!”

“Fine. It’s just us six then. Would have been a nice thing if we had the whole squad, but..”

“Forget it!”

Castor got up with a sigh. “You know, this petulance of yours is getting old real fast.”

“Whatever.”

Castor opened his mouth to say something else, but stopped himself just in time. “Right. Whatever. Real mature, Vakarian.”

After he’d left, Garrus ate the meat strips out of spite. He owed her nothing, and would give her nothing.

 

**2174 CE – December 27 st – Holo-vid Call Room – 20:01 PM**

The vid-screen flickered briefly, and then her mother’s face came into view.

“Hi sweetheart, and merry Christmas to you,” Hannah’s smiling face said light years away.

“Merry Christmas mom,” Jane smiled back. “How’s everyone on Arcturus?”

“Oh, they’re much the same, from last I head. Jeffrey still wants to be a pilot, he’s very adamant about that. His parents are going a bit crazy, because he applied for flight school and got early acceptance without their approval.”

“Wow, that’s great! Can’t wait to tell him myself,” Jane grinned. “He can fly me around next time I need a skycar cabbie.”

“Jane, be nice,” Hannah said more out of old habit than anything else.

“Jeff’s all right with it, he doesn’t want to be treated differently. He can take a joke.”

“From you, maybe, but a lot of other people will be giving him a hard time.”

“Not when I’m around,” Jane said still grinning.

“So confident. Wonder who you take after.”

“It’s a mystery. Tell me some Alliance gossip, I’m dying to hear some news from the outside.”

Hannah contemplated that for a second. “Well, there’s increased pirate activity in the Skyllian sector. We’re seeing some rivalry among the different groups, the Blood Pack is duking it out with the Blue Suns, and the Eclipse is waiting for the other two to exhaust themselves before swooping in on the cadaver. A lot of betrayal and backstabbings.”

“If there’s increased pirate activity in that sector..” Jane began, but Hannah laughed it away.

“Can’t tell you where the Orizaba is stationed, sorry honey.”

“Ah, worth a try. Anything else?”

“Those turians are making trouble again,” her mother said with a slight sneer on her face. “They keep saying if we can’t keep the peace in our own sectors, the Citadel might as well give those areas to the batarians. Insufferable blow-hards.”

“Ahaha,” Jane chuckled nervously. “Those turians, at it again. Do you think we’ll ever truly get along with them?”

“Not like this we aren’t,” Hannah said shortly. “They think they’re better than us. We’ll show them otherwise.”

“Uh, yeah..” This was not the direction this conversation should be going. “Erm, what kind of Christmas celebrations are you having on the Orizaba?”

“Oh,” Hannah said, surprised at the sudden change of topic, “we have some small decorations, nothing much, this is a ship of the line after all. I believe one of the lieutenants have a mistletoe hidden away somewhere. That’s about it. How about Jump Zero? I can’t imagine you have a big celebration there.”

“Nah, a few decorations here as well. Some friends of mine gave me a set of nutri-bars with berry flavor,” Jane grinned.

“How nice of them,” Hannah said warmly. “I’m glad you have good friends on the station. Can’t be easy with all those turians around.”

“Uhm.. It gets easier after a while,” Jane said carefully. “They’re mostly just kids like us.”

“Just be vigilant, Jane. I’ve heard that the Vakarian clan have a representative on the station. They’re not to be trusted.”

Jane shifted uncomfortably. “I understand. I’ll.. keep an eye out for him. Or her! Whichever it is.”

“That’s good, Jane. Now, tell me about your biotic studies, are you getting better?”

Jane put on her poker face and prepared to tell her mother the story she wanted to hear, while avoiding the reality of life on Gagarin Station.

 

**2175 CE – January 05 th – Armory – 18:45 PM**

“Thanks for helping us stacking these,” Strabo said and hoisted the last crate on the shelf.

“No problem. I had some time available since the commander has been gone for almost a week now,” Shepard smiled at him and Aius. “Don’t know what takes him away from the station, but it’s nice to have a breather.” Just as she said that, the omni-tool on her wrist gave a warning buzz. Shepard felt blood drain from her face. Speak of the devil. He was back, and not in a good mood, according to the message.

‘ _Gym in 30. Training suit. Do not be late.’_

Whenever he’d been away, it was always a gamble whether he’d return in a reasonable state of mind, or as close to reasonable he could get, or in a raging fit of suppressed anger he took out on her. She could guess what this was.

“Sorry, guys, I have to run. See you tomorrow.” She hurried out of there, and didn’t notice that Aius had been peeking over her shoulder the whole time.

“Strabo,” Aius said in a strangled tone.

“What?” His friend was busy writing the last crate labels.

“I saw it.”

“Saw what?”

“The message from Vyrnnus. I know where they are going to train?”

“What!?” Strabo jerked his head up and stared at Aius. “You’re not kidding me with this?”

“No, but it’s like, real soon. We’ll miss dinner if we go.”

“Who cares, it’s only paste today anyway. Let’s get the others and go!”

“Even Vakarian?”

“Who cares about him? If he’ll come, he’ll come, if not, so what. I’m tired of his shit anyway.”

They locked the armory and practically ran the whole distance to the barracks.

 

**2175 CE – January 05 th – Gymnastics Hall – 19:10 PM**

Squad Four had hunkered down on one of the observer balconies surrounding the hall. They were normally in use during exhibition matches and when a judge was needed for overseeing a competition, but with Garrus’ maintenance card they easily got in. All seven of them were crouched down and signaling each other to be quiet. Only a stroke of luck had revealed Vyrnnus' impromptu training, and they eagerly awaited his and Shepard’s appearance. Shepard was a relentless hard-ass in every class, but while she drove them hard, she kept silent about her own training. The one exception to this rule was that one time she’d let it slip to Strabo she needed remedial biotics training. They were all in agreement that this had been a lie, but none of them knew why. Strabo had been searching for this opportunity for months, and he would be damned before he let it slip away. His biggest concern was Garrus tagging along. The stubborn kid had brought along his brand new visor and strapped it to his face. Show-off.

 

Garrus swept his eyes around the room, and the visor kept flashing all available parameters straight into his eye. This thing was awesome. What made it even better, was the recording capability he’d found yesterday, both image and sound. It was like the spirits had guided him, and now he could record for posterity whatever Shepard was trying to hide from them, maybe shove it in her face later. His entire body tingled with anticipation. He adjusted the color range and hoped they would not wait long. Somewhere to the left Aius whispered that maybe Shepard and Vyrnnus was bedmates, and hid in here to fuck, to a chorus of soft chuffing laughs.

The doors swung open and Vyrnnus strode in, Shepard in tow. Garrus quickly pressed play. Vyrnnus motioned toward the center of the hall, and when Shepard passed him trying to chow down a nutri-bar he smacked it out of her hand. The blueberry bar rolled along the floor.

“No eating in training, human! Why can your kind never follow orders, not on the station, not in the real world? I have to repeat myself, again and again.”

She gave him a tired look. “That's all I've had today, I need-”

“You _need_ to remember your position, Shepard. Either training with me or first shuttle out of here. And in my classes, I set the rules.”

She nodded quietly and went into the ring, turning to face the commander.

The team was bewildered. This demure cadet was not their fierce leader, this was a resigned recruit who awaited the inevitable.

“Defense, Shepard. Prepare yourself.”

She’d barely flared a shield when Vyrnnus hit her with a charge that resonated through the hall. Shield barely holding, he hit her with another blast that shattered her defense before he sent her tumbling backwards with a kick to the abdomen. Garrus thought he might have heard a small cracking sound, but he could have been wrong.

“Pathetic. Again,” Vyrnnus voice rang out as Shepard struggled to get up and flared another shield. He hit her with a reave that shattered it instantly and caused her cry out as she fell down again.

“Is this it, Shepard? All these months of training, and one attack have you on all fours before me.”

She stumbled back up and evaded his next attack, before she reacted instinctively to the advancing turian and hit him with a charge of her own straight towards his chest. Vyrnnus blocked it and was on her before she could muster another shield of her own.

“Defense I said,” he snarled, striking her in the face, “something wrong with those big ears?”

She pushed him off and tried to block as he swiped her with his talons, blood seeping from the open gashes on her arm.

There was a collective gasp among the hidden team. That was not how the military was supposed to train. You didn't purposefully injure your training partner, even this barefaced turian should know that. As the team kept watching it became apparent that Shepard and Vyrnnus were not training as equals, but as tyrant and underling. With increasing horror they saw how Vyrnnus hit Shepard with practically every biotic attack in his arsenal and refused to let her fight back. Every time her shield failed, he beat or slashed her in retribution. Every time she failed, more blood trickled on the ground and into her suit. The situation was made worse by the fact that is was impossible to leave without being caught,because the doors had noise alerts. They had to watch the whole ordeal. Shepard tried to defend, and Vyrnnus beat her down. Every defeat accompanied by taunts and slurs, and yet every time Shepard hoisted her damaged body up for another round.

In the end, the metallic smell of the red blood filled the hall, and the turian squad members felt nauseated by the scent. After almost 90 minutes even Garrus was appalled. Vyrnnus shattered the final shield she managed to conjure, and lifted her up by her throat. “Pitiful,” Vyrnnus snarled and punched her in the ribs. This time there was a definite cracking sound. He dropped her to the ground and stared indifferently at her. Shepard was bloody, broken and soundly defeated. She couldn't get up anymore. Vyrnnus shoved her with his armored boot and scoffed at the limp wheezing body.

“We're done here, Shepard. Get to the medic. Tomorrow you must do better, or I'll do worse.”

He walked out, leaving her on the floor. The team stayed silent, watching as Shepard slowly crawled over to a rail and pulled herself up. Blood trickled from her nose and the corner’s of her mouth, and her arms shook. She spat blood and swayed as she tried to find her legs again. They heard a soft “ _fuck_ ” before Shepard began to leave the hall, limping heavily and clutching her side. Halfway down she fell to the ground and coughed up more blood.

“Spirits, what are we going to do? She can’t stay there,” Castor whispered.

“I’ll go down and help,” Strabo said and moved to get up.

“No, wait!” The doors were opening again, and another turian came in.

“Shepard? Are you in here?” It was Decian Chellick. “She-.. Oh no! Shepard!”

He ran over to her and pulled her gently to her feet, clutching her in his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me he was back? Spirits, your _face_!”

“’m still gorgessh,” she smiled at him through a broken lip.

Chellick let out a strangled chuff. “Yes you are. And we’re going to Publius, no arguments!”

“’kay.”

Without any further delay, Chellick picked up Shepard and carried her in his arms out of there. Garrus’ visor zoomed in on their faces, and he saw Chellick very carefully put his nose in Shepard’s hair. Behind him he heard Mivea whisper something to Strabo, and Garrus missed Chellick’s last word to Shepard. When the two of them was gone, he turned around, trying not to face his squadmates.

 

Sneaking out the way they came, once outside they finally found their voices.

“I wondered why she always refused to take off her shirt.” Nirea’s quiet voice was sad.

“She carries some extra medigel in her kit,” Aius added. “I saw it a couple of weeks ago. I shouldn’t have joked about her and Vyrnnus.”

“No wonder she hates turians.” Garrus was surprised he had said that aloud.

“She doesn’t hate turians.” Castor glared at him. “I heard Chellick had a thing for her, looks like it might be true,” he added.

“Do you think Shepard likes Chellick?” Aius asked.

They stared at him.

“Shepard has a thing for Decian Chellick? Are you on sand? They’re just friends,” Mevia said.

“Not a chance..”

“There's no way..”

“Hey, just spreading a rumor. If he likes her, though..”

Garrus sneered at him. “Why would anyone like Shepard? Besides feeling a little sorry for her getting beat up, there is nothing to like. She's ruthless, hard, calculating and downright mean.”

“Oh stop, you're making my plates loosen.” Aius grinned at Garrus, but the rest of the squad glared at their unfriendly teammate.

“She never surrendered, even though she was half dead at the end. Not bad for a biotic nutcase. If only she was turian.”Aius’ subvocals brimmed with admiration. He’d missed that the mood was changing against Garrus.

“I think this is part of the deal she made after her first encounter with you, Vakarian. Training your squad and private training with Vyrnnus. You heard what he said about first shuttle out of here.” Strabo looked as deadly as he sounded. “Looks like you’ve been getting payback for months now. How about you give us a little more whine on how horrible _you’_ _ve_ been treated?”

Garrus was sick to his stomach of the blood bath he’d just witnessed, but his stubborn pride refused him to go down without a fight.

“Just because she got slapped around a few times today, doesn’t mean she wouldn’t fuck things up for me while I’m here. I know she-…”

 

There was a loud smack as the always gentle Castor slapped Garrus across the face. Garrus looked shocked.

“Shut up, Vakarian. I’ve never met a more self-absorbed idiot in my life.”

The rest of the squad took a step back.

“So Shepard did something bad. She definitely got punished for it. Shepard is mean to you? Who do you think fixed it so you could get food outside normal hours? Who came and gave us snacks when we were sick? I know you got some of that too. Who talked the captain out of canning your sorry hide from the program after Erikson? Who made Strabo and Mevia clean up your mess in the storage hall and covered for you with Corinthus again? And did she ever say a word about you regurgitating all over her before she dragged you to sickbay? Fuck you! High tier bastard.” He turned around and marched off.

“Uh, yeah. That was... constructive,” Nirea said, trying to ease everyone out of the awkward situation. “Let’s just think about this until tomorrow and decide what to do then.”

The squad dispersed in silence.

 

Garrus sent a message to the chief engineer that he’d been feeling ill and therefor hadn’t showed for duty. The chief accepted his excuse without further questions. Returning to the barracks wasn’t a tempting option and Garrus decided to hide out in the locker room. Shepard would not be returning there tonight, she’d probably spend the night in Med bay. He sat down in front of his locker. After making sure no one else was around, he reset the vid and started watching the recording again.

The sight of Shepard coughing up her own blood made him physically ill, but he forced himself to watch it again. He saw Vyrnnus use his talons on her like he’d used his talons on Erikson in this very room. The sound of ribs cracking and Shepard crawling along the floor. A feeling of shame and disgust much worse than the ones caused by his drunken night washed over him, but he had no words to describe the changing emotions in his chest. He was still angry with her, but now he was also disappointed with himself. He wished she could be free of Vyrnnus so he could hate her in peace, not being forced to feel this great surge of pity welling up inside. And she’d gone out of her way to help him, he really disliked her for that. And yet.. _‘I don’t hate you, Garrus.’_

There was a piece of the story missing. Garrus pressed fast forward until the part where Chellick appeared, clearly looking for Shepard. She’d made a joke to lighten his mood, and he pressed his nose in her hair. This wasn’t enough proof. Perhaps Chellick thought she wouldn’t notice. He fiddled with the audio, trying to block out the voices behind him and focus on the two down on the floor. The visor wasn’t made for this, but he managed to enhance Chellick’s word a little. Except it wasn’t words. Chellick was _purring_ at Shepard. Garrus paused the vid and stared blankly into the room. He blinked several times, and turned slowly towards the showers.

As if in a trance, he started taking off his undersuit, and walked into the newly repaired disaster zone. The stall he was looking for was rebuilt in the same space, but they had not replaced the floor tiles. _A turian.. with a human._ There could only be one pairing. A fresh mixture of shame and arousal hit him as he placed his own feet over the scratch marks on the floor. _The human trapped between the wall and the turian._ Garrus knew what he was doing was perverse, but he was a young turian under a lot of stress. Turning on the shower, he let the steaming hot water flow down his chest. It felt nice. He closed his eyes and leaned on the wall, pretending he was pressed against a female. His mind conjured up the smell of the grass of a palaveni summer meadow, and his hand felt its way down between his legs and stroked the seam between his already loosened plates. This was wrong. He knew it. He’d just seen her hurt and injured, and then in the arms of another male. He just couldn’t help it. His breath hitched as his cock slid into his hand in under a minute, and his subvocals thrummed out his lust loud and clear. Only a bad turian would succumb to something like this. A. Very. Bad. Turian. He worked his cock at a furious pace, imagining a pair of gray eyes staring into his as he had the female at his mercy, took her, claimed her, marked her and..

In less than three minutes, he found his release and ejaculated all over the wall, moaning loudly at each spurt. After having spent his entire pent up reserves of semen, Garrus slowly opened his eyes and felt another twinge of humiliation hit him. How was he supposed to look Shepard in the eyes after _this_?

He hosed down the stall and himself and walked back to the locker room to get dressed. The turians in squad Four could probably smell what he’d done tomorrow. After what they’d seen tonight, they’d think he was a deviant too. And rightly so. In the dark, Garrus keened quietly and hung his head in shame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is a bit of an early delight for my dear readers (Thursday today).  
> I'm off to a late Easter party today, will probably be in a severely reduced mental state tomorrow, and have to drive 6 hours back from holiday on Saturday, and I kept thinking I needed to get this out as soon as possible.  
> Garrus is made to see the light on several matters, the rest of the squad are only aware of the first :)  
> How will this affect the future cooperation between him and Shepard? Stay tuned :D


	26. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Publius faces a few demons, and Shepard is in recovery

**2175 CE – January 05 th – Med Bay – 22:13 PM**

Since he’d been told to wait in the hallway, Chellick had paced it up and down, waiting for the doctor to come back out. He tried his best to avoid looking at the blood on his clothes. After putting Shepard down on the examination table, she’d given him a grateful smile and asked hoarsely if he would wait. Like he would ever have considered anything else. It felt like forever, but finally the door opened and Publius came out, looking grim.

“Still here, I see. Care to tell me what happened?”  
“She didn’t tell you?” Shepard wouldn't want him to tell, but lying was not Chellick’s strong suit, and now he was trapped.

“She told me something, all right. Training accident? Must’ve fallen from the ropes quite a few times to cause that, and landed on broken glass every time.”

“I wasn’t there,” Chellick mumbled. “I just found her.”

Publius sighed. “Recruit Chellick, I will have to report this. The report will end up in front of Shepard's commanding officer, who is at this point-..”

“Commander Vyrnnus,” Chellick whispered, looking thunderstruck. “Please don’t. He’ll think Shepard told on him.”

“On him? Vyrnnus is doing all of that?” Publius demanded.

Chellick looked down and clenched his talons. “Can’t say.”

“Didn’t deny it either.”

“Look, it’s.. complicated! She has to obey, or she has to leave. No two ways about it. I can’t say anything else, please..” Chellick clamped his mandibles to his jaw.

“You’re placing me in a very difficult position here, recruit. I can’t allow one of my charges to be abused under my care. This is the reason so much medigel has been taken from the gel-stations around Gagarin?”

Chellick’s only reply was his distressed humming subvocals. Publius flicked his mandibles and gazed at him for a long minute. Even if his second voice box betrayed him, Chellick would not answer more questions.

Publius shook his head. “Go in and see her. I’m going to attend some other patients.”

Chellick gave him a relieved smile and slipped inside Shepard’s room.

Publius keyed up his omni-tool and punched in Vyrnnus’ number. _‘Student in Med-Bay. Strange injuries. Meet at my office now.’_

If those two weren’t going to tell the whole story, he’d talk to the head trainer of the biotics himself.

 

15 minutes later Vyrnnus was standing in front of Publius’ desk with an expression of willful ignorance. Publius hadn’t expected to feel worried in the company of a fellow turian, but Vyrnnus had a reputation, and now that he saw the male in person, he was beginning to understand why.

“Your reason for summoning me here is an injured student? Students get injured all the time,” Vyrnnus said with a sly smile.

“Not all of them by design,” Publius said, flaring his fringe. “The injuries of the biotic is not consistent with any form of regulated training I’ve seen on this station. I will have to report this.”

“So be it. I will look forward to reading your findings with interest,” his barefaced compatriot said with disinterest.

“Not only to you. It has come to my attention that you might be the cause of some of these injuries.”

Vyrnnus slowly raised his head and stared right at him. The look of calculating madness therein made the doctor suppress a shudder.

“What did the recruit say?” There was a cruel hint of amusement in Vyrnnus’ voice.

“She said nothing. Training accident. But her injuries, and more importantly, her scars, say otherwise.”

“So, what? Your testimony against hers and mine? Won’t get you far with this board of directors.”

“I will not allow this abuse to continue!” Publius stood up and faced down the smiling commander. “These are still children! I won’t have it!”

To his surprise, Vyrnnus chuckled. “The children? Precious. Just precious. If it were anyone else, I would have believed them. From you, it’s downright hypocritical.”

Publius felt a chill down his carapace. “What do you mean, from me?”

“I know who you are, _Publius_. I know what you worked on before you got contracted by Conatix to babysit these fledglings.”

“And I know what you were, _commander_. Don’t try to blackmail me, my employer is aware of any previous employments I might have had.”

“Oh, I’m sure Conatix doesn’t mind, they’re all about credits, like me. Your research background was a pleasant bonus for them, I should think. I doubt the krogans feel the same way. Clever, hiding out here in human space.” Vyrnnus bristled his fringe in a playful manner. “The salarians got tired of you? Or did you grow a conscience with them too?” The commander’s derisive laugh made Publius pull back from him.

“How long would you last out there without Conatix protection? I’m one of very few experienced biotics willing to work for a human company. They can always find another doctor.”

Publius closed his eyes his eyes for a second, before he opened them and glared fixedly at Vyrnnus.

“You think you’ve got me, don’t you? Two can play this game. How about someone leaks to a certain admiral that her daughter is being abused by a turian mercenary? How long do you think _you’ll_ last _anywhere_?”

There was a flicker of uncertainty on Vyrnnus’ face. It didn’t last long, but Publius knew he’d seen it.

“You have no proof.”

“Don’t need it. Try explaining away those talon slashes to the most notorious turian hater on this side of the Traverse. I’d pay a years salary to see that.”

The sneer on Vyrnnus’ face told Publius he’d hit a nerve.

“Fine,” Vyrnnus growled. “Shepard can stay here for a few days. Since she’s such a delicate little thing, I’ll go easier on her in training. Is your own life worth more than that?”

“That’s.. acceptable. If she returns again in this condition, I _will_ bring the matter to light.”

“There are more ways than one to train a human.” Vyrnnus had regained his confidence. “I’m sure she’s learned her lesson. For now.”

After the commander left, Publius sank down in his chair and cursed his own cowardice. He might have bought Shepard a reprieve, but if his own background became public knowledge, he would be in danger. The need to call his old mentor was almost overpowering, but he could not afford such sentimentality. Besides, there was no telling where doctor Solus was now.

 

**2175 CE – January 05 th – Med Bay, Shepard's Room**

When Chellick had entered her room, Shepard was laying in the bed with her eyes closed. The whoosh of the door made her look in his direction, and she smiled at him, trying not to upset her injured lip too much.

“Hey you.”

“Spirits, Jane, how are you so calm?” He was relieved to see her smiling, but she took these matters too little to heart. “If I hadn’t found you..”

“But you did. My big hero,” she grinned and winced from pain.

“Don’t.. don’t smile if it hurts.” Her hero. He liked that.

“It’ll pass. Come here?” She held out her hand, and he enveloped her fingers in his talons. The bandages on her arm reminded him of what those claws could do, and he wanted to hurt Vyrnnus.

“Decian? Don’t get foolish ideas. It’s over.”  
“For this time. What about the next? And the next?”

“6 months left. I can deal with it.”

“I don’t think I can. Jane, please.. We have to tell someone.”

There was no reply from her, she merely looked away from him and stared emptily at the wall.

“No. Not when I’m so close. Halfway there.”

“Doctor Publius can help, if we tell him everything. I know he’s concerned about you.”

Shepard crawled up to a sitting position, clutching her ribs. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing.” One mandible flicked nervously.

“Decian? Did you tattle on me to my doctor?”

“No.. I just.. I said he shouldn’t ask questions, because Vyrnnus would get upset with you.”

Shepard groaned and leaned back. “Gods, now he IS going to ask questions. Thanks a lot.”

“Hey, that’s unfair. I’ve tried doing it your way for months now, do you have any idea how this makes me feel!? And I can’t do anything about it!” Chellick said, pointing to her bandages and swollen eye.

She looked away again. “Sorry.”

“No, Jane, please, I didn’t mean.. Damn!” He grabbed the side of the bed and scraped his talons in frustration. “It’s not your fault, but this isn’t working. He’s hurting you! And all you think about is getting into that N7 program. It’s unhealthy. Literally.”

“It’s important to me,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Jane,” he said and gently put his hand on her cheek, making her face him. “You’re important to me. Don’t make me see this again.”

“I have to. The N7 is everything I’ve worked for. Sorry, Decian. I can’t give up now.”

Again, she smiled her lopsided grin that made her wince, and lifted a hand to stroke the tip of his mandible. “I care for you, a lot more than I should for a turian.” A playful wink and another wince. He chuckled. Jane was relentless when she wanted something.

The ring of blood encircling her pupil in the damaged eye made Chellick uncomfortable, but he wanted to kiss her all the same. Pressing his mouth to hers would only hurt her right now, and so he did the one thing he’d promised himself he’d not do until they got the results back from Publius.

Chellick tenderly put his hand on the back of her head, and pushed his forehead to hers.

“I’ll help in any way I can. Even if you are unbearably difficult at times.”

 

The door swung open and Publius entered.

“I have good news for y-.. Spirits, what are you doing, Decian Chellick!”

Chellick got up and looked like he’d just been caught with his hand down his undersuit.

“We, uh, were just talking.”

“Don’t try that with me. I know what you were doing, and I haven’t spoken to Shepard about the tests yet. And you!” he snapped and pointed at Shepard. “Why are you trying to get up? Lay down and stay down, I will not hesitate to put a guard at your door to make sure.”

Shepard waved one hand in surrender, and shuffled back down on the bed.

“Right. Now, will you give me and Shepard a moment alone?”

Chellick gave Shepard one last look before leaving.

There was a visitor’s chair by the wall, and Publius fetched it and sat down beside her bed. There was no way of easing into this conversation, and he decided to be blunt.

“I talked to Vyrnnus.”

Her mouth fell open and she tried to get back up.

“No, no, no. Stay down, give those ribs a rest. You are very fortunate that they’re only fractured and didn’t penetrate a lung. I’d recommend bed rest for a week-...” She opened her mouth to protest, “but I doubt I could keep you here for more than a day. Listen to me, this next part is important.”

Shepard closed her mouth again, but he could see the tensing of her jaw. To her credit, she managed to lay there in silence and wait.

“Commander Vyrnnus and I have reached an understanding. You’re to remain here for two days, no that’s not negotiable,” he waved off another attempt at interruption, “and he will not be as harsh in your training from here on out.”

There was a long pregnant pause before Shepard answered.

“How did you manage that? Told him you could sell various body parts on the black market and needed me undamaged?”

Against his will, Publius chuckled. “No, but not too far off. I said I would be reporting this to higher authorities if id didn’t desist.”

“The board doesn’t care,” Shepard said and studied the roof with more attention than it deserved.

“The board is not the only ones with influence in this galaxy. You have your secrets and I have mine.”

“Fair enough. So when can I get back to training?”

“I told you, two days, don’t pretend you didn’t hear me.”

“All right, all right. Worth a last try. Can I read, at least? If someone brings me the datapads?”

Publius reached over her and examined her eye again. “I think that would be okay. Not the whole day, mind you. You need rest.”

“Yes, mister jailer.”

“Funny, Shepard. Careful, or I won’t let that boyfriend of yours back in here.”

It was Shepard’s turn to chuckle.

“By the time you’re ready to be discharged here, I’ll have the results from the tests ready. The implications so far are.. interesting.”

“You’re telling me this and then telling me to wait? Cruel man.”

“Very. Say goodnight to your paramour and let him get to bed. He has no excuse for sleeping in late tomorrow.”

“Right.” She gave the doctor a tired nod.

Chellick all but bounced inside when Publius had left. “What did he say?”

“That Vyrnnus won’t beat the crap out of me again and I have to stay here for two days.”

His mandibles flared so wide all his needle teeth showed. “It’s over? Will he be fired.”

“No, just taking it out on somebody else, I guess.”

The smile became a little smaller, but he was still happy. “Great news anyway. Two days in here? That’s good news for all the other squad leaders. Fivex isn’t long off.”

“Shove it, Decian. Some boyfriend I have,” she smiled at him.

“I’m delightful. Ask me anything, and you shall have it,” he said, bowing sarcastically.

“In that case, mind giving Four some orders for tomorrow? Since I’m not there?”

He raised a brow plate. “Sure, but I thought Strabo was your second if you’re away.”

“He is, but I want them to train combat missions in the Armax sim, core focus on teamwork. He might have them do differently, like rehearsing on forming an execution squad with Garrus as target practice.”

The chuff following that comment was very uncharacteristic from Chellick. “Perhaps he could use a few blows to the head, to make him stop trying to get intimate with other people’s girlfriends.”

“Hey, don’t be like that, you’re the mature one. That’s why I like you.”

Chellick rolled his eyes. “Fine, it will be as my human commands,” he said and gently poked at an undamaged spot on her arm. “I still think he’s a bit of a rotten sneak, though.”

 

**2175 CE – January 06 th – Roll Call – 08:04 AM**

“What are we supposed to do?”

Squad Four hadn’t heard anything about Shepard’s condition, and Argyle was the first to voice his concern.

“Wait until everyone is in attendance,” Strabo muttered. “We’re missing our sniper.”

They hadn’t seen him since that fatal meeting yesterday, and he even missed breakfast. Two minutes later Garrus appeared. He smelled strongly of pumice soap, but the other five turians still recognized the scent underneath it.

“Really, Vakarian? We had to wait while you unplate yourself in the showers?” Mevia said gruffly.

“Sorry guys,” Garrus said, unexpectedly demure. “It won’t happen again.”

Castor hadn’t forgiven Garrus for his outburst yesterday and pretended not to hear. “So, what are we to do? Should we report that Shepard isn’t here?”

“The protocol says we will be informed of a squad leaders absence, I don’t know by whom,” Strabo said and looked around. “Spirits, it’s Chellick! Remember, we know nothing about yesterday.”

Squad Four stood to attention when Chellick stopped in front of them with a bag slung over his cowl.

“Easy, Four. Shepard is indisposed, but has given instructions for you to work in the Armax Sim today. I’ve already booked the hours, so you should be fine.” Chellick did a quick survey and reported them in attendance.

“When will she be back?” Argyle asked.

“Uh, yeah, and why isn’t she here?” Mevia added.

Chellick shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Training mishap. She’ll be back in two days. Strabo is her second, you will oversee the sim-training, but I’ll be by to see how you are doing.”

“No problem. We got this,” Strabo said, puffing up his fringe.

“One more thing. I was going to deliver these datapads to Shepard so she could do some studying while in the med bay. I can’t make it, and wondered if-..”

“I’ll do it,” Garrus said quickly and stepped forward.

Seven pairs of eyes stared at him, and Chellick’s grip on the bag tightened. Those green eyes of his bored into Garrus’ head, the low growl telling Garrus that Chellick was aware of his suavis tactu with Shepard. He was now signaling ‘I know what you did to my girlfriend, sneak.’ Garrus tried to look properly contrite without tipping off the rest of the squad as to why Chellick didn’t trust him with the datapads.

“Chellick, relax. We know Garrus has been giving Shepard a hard time, but that’s about to change, isn’t it?” Strabo said, trying to defuse the situation.

“I think it would be a good thing, having him deliver that bag. Reconciliation, you know,” Argyle added.

Chellick stopped growling but kept staring at Garrus while he slowly and reluctantly handed the bag over. He flicked a mandible in irritation when he smelled the younger turian. “Don’t try anything, just give her the bag and get your hide back here.”

“Sure thing, Chellick. Won’t be long.”

“No, you won’t,” Chellick said coldly. “I’m watching you!”

Garrus left without another word, and so too did Chellick.

“That was intense,” Nirea said. “Wonder if Shepard has been complaining a lot about Garrus to Chellick.”

“I know I would have. So, how about mountain setting for our first round?” Aius said, looking at Strabo. “I’m a little tired of urban sprawl.”

“That’s because you always get shot in the back.” Mevia gave Aius a small push.

“Now you sound like Shepard,” Aius groaned. _“Aius, check behind the door. Aius, you’re one dead turian._ _Aius, this is the third time, you’re driving me nuts._ _Aius, do you like being dead?”_ he mimicked.

“Was she wrong? Nope!” Mevia grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you how much you suck when Shepard's not here.”

Aius grumbled something intelligible, and the rest of the squad laughed.

 

**2175 CE – January 06 th – Med Bay – 08:25 AM**

There was nobody around in the corridor when Garrus stood outside Shepard's room, and he wondered if he was allowed to enter outside visiting hours. Since there was no one to ask, he knocked softly on the door and waited.

“Come on in,” he heard a female voice say, and swung open the door. Shepard was on the bed, looking surprised to see him, but waved him closer. One eye was very swollen, but besides some bruises to her face and some light bandages to her arm, she looked fine. If he hadn’t seen what happened yesterday, he would have believed the lie she served with a smile.

“Hi Garrus. Small accident in training, nothing to worry about.”

As he stepped closer, he could smell the medigel on her, like so many times before. How come he hadn't thought about that smell earlier?

“Erm.. Hi. You, uh… you look good,” he said lamely.

Shepard snorted, then clutched her ribs and laughed in spite of the pain. “Gods, you and I have to play poker one day. You’ll not even have the shirt on your back when I’m done.”

“You want to see me _naked_?” Garrus asked in a shocked tone.

“Shepard threw her head back and laughed out loud, jerking in pain as her ribs protested the excessive use of air. “Ow, stop it, ahaha, you’re killing me here!”

Garrus tried not to chuckle, seeing as the amusement was hurting Shepard, but he couldn’t resist it.

“You said it, not me.” He grinned at her.

“I guess I did. So, what can I do for you, in my reduced state?”

“It’s more of what I can do for you. Here you go,” he said and placed the bag on her bed.

“Praise the sun, this is a lifesaver, Garrus.” She leaned over and whispered in a playful manner; “The evil doctor Publius is keeping me here against my will. I think he wants my kidneys.”

It had been a long while since Garrus had joked around with anybody, and the fact that it was Shepard who tried to jest with him made the whole thing more surreal. There was a timid spark of connection between them, the divide that separated them lessened by him knowing more about her than the other way around. Not to mention Shepard was still the only one on the team who wasn’t angry with him for the moment. Neither could she smell what he’d been up to in the showers. He met her eyes and flared his mandibles again.

“Want me to scratch him out for you?”

Shepard chortled again despite the pain.

“I don’t think it’s necessary yet. Thanks for the offer, though.”

“No problem,” he said and looked at the wall timer. “I have to go, Chellick booked the sim for us.”

“Yeah, I know. Hey Garrus?”

He turned around. “Yes?”

“Thank you for bringing these. I’d go crazy if I had to be cooped up somewhere for a long time with nothing to do.”

“No problem. Hope you’re better soon.”

“Ahm, well.. me too. Good luck in training today.”

Garrus paused a moment when he was standing outside the Med Bay. Of all his encounters with Shepard, that had been one of the shortest, and one where they both tried to play nice. It felt good, with none of the awkwardness he’d expected, all things considering. He only hoped it would last.

 

**2175 CE – January 12 th – Class Room 2 – 16:49 PM**

“It’s been a week worth of sim-training, guys. It’s time we did something different.”

Shepard glanced over her gathered flock. Ever since she got out of Med Bay, Four had insisted on doing combat sims with her in the observer’s booth, and she had quickly caught on why. They felt sorry for her being injured, and flatly refused to do something with her in a more active role. The first time they’d insisted on having another sim-day, it was Garrus’ suggestion. The others had glared at him like he was a dirty merc, but he’d hummed something with his subvocals, and suddenly they were all clamoring for more sim-hours. Only Argyle had been dumbfounded until Strabo scratched his side and coughed, then he joined in too. It was a damned conspiracy, that’s what it was, and it stopped now.

“Tomorrow it’s time for more hand to hand. We’ve neglected that these past few days, and I’ve seen the other squads during their sessions. Fivex will be a hard sell, make no mistake.”

Castor stood up, looking like he’d been pushed out of his chair.

“We think a few more days in the sim would be good.”

“Or maybe more theoretical stuff,” Nirea said.

“Yeah, we should read more on the history of warfare,” Strabo added. “Can never know enough about that.”

“History of warfare, huh?” Shepard said and crossed her arms, grinning. “I have some history for you. Centuries ago back on earth, mutineers were thrown into the sea or pulled under the keel of the ship.”

“No oceans here, I’d say we’re good,” Aius quipped, and the rest of the squad tried to muffle their chuffing laughs.

“I hear we have our first volunteer to walk the plank. Next rabbit run on the holo-tag deck, you’re the rabbit, Aius.”

“Aaaww, come on!” Aius pleaded. “It stings to get shot by those things.”

“I know,” Shepard quipped back and wiggled her eyebrows.

Beside Aius, Mevia let out a high snicker.

“And there’s your partner,” Shepard said and pointed at Mevia. “This should be fun.”

“Hello there, partner,” Aius said huskily to Mevia.

“Jerk!” There was a rustling of chairs as Mevia tried to grab Aius in a stranglehold.

“Help, murder, murder!” Aius leaped to his feet and ran around the room to the ringing laughter of the squad, even Shepard.

“All right, you two, settle down,” she said after three laps. “We need to get sharp, this is our last campus exam. The field exam is off world, so is the war games at the end of semester. Fuck up in the field exam, and you turians might not get to chose your specialty. Argyle, you’ll get a red mark on your record that’s hard to erase. We need to work on this.”

It was Garrus that raised his hand next. Shepard saw the apprehensive looks the rest of the squad shot at him.

“That’s all true, Shepard, but you’re still injured. We can see it when you move too suddenly or turn too fast. You shouldn’t train with us.”

The room went dead quiet.

Shepard sighed. “I don’t like it when you guys use logic against me. It’s just rude.”

A small titter sounded from the squad.

“But you’re right. I shouldn’t put pressure on those bones now, but I can instruct you seven. Don’t think I won’t see every false step you make and call you out for it. Emerus and I have a wager, and I don’t intend to lose. Tomorrow it’s close quarter combat. That’s final.”

“Hey, hey, wait a minute,” Aius said with a shrewd expression. “I just remembered another wager. Before thirex Emerus Victus told us there was a reason why you tried to murder your squad with that biotic hail, and you promised to tell us if we won.”

“That’s right, you never did,” Strabo said, looking like a shark scenting a drop of blood.

“Tell us,” Nirea chimed in.

“Tell us, tell us, tell us,” the whole squad chanted and Shepard held up her hands.

“Fine, a promise is a promise.”

She chortled and sat down on the desk. “I was a reserve trainer for a group of first years in CQC, and one day those little buggers broke into my room.”

“Go on,” Garrus urged.

“When I returned, they’d plastered everything, and I do mean everything, with images ripped from Fornax, plate naked turians doing every damn sex act in the book on every available surface, even the roof,” she grinned.

Argyle wolf whistled and the turians flanged laugh sounded into the class room next door, where Celsus banged on the wall to get them to shut up.

“Oh, but that wasn’t the worst,” Shepard said dreamily, remembering that fateful day like it was yesterday.

“Tell us, tell us,” the squad whispered and drummed their hands on the desks.

“The worst part was when captain Corinthus walked in on me five minutes later, while I was staring at all these butt naked turians. I thought the poor man was going to swallow his mandibles.”

This time they could hear Celsus bellowing at them through the wall to be quiet.

After he was done gasping for air, Aius had one more question. “And what did you think? Of naked turians in general, I mean?”

“Ooooh,” Argyle hooted, “flirting with danger there, Aius.”

Shepard sauntered down to Aius’ seat, making a point of swaying her hips from side to side.

“I think,” she said and ran a finger slowly under his mandible, “the naked turian physique is mighty fine.” Then she swayed her hips out of the classroom.

Aius made a strange chirp and suddenly looked very embarrassed with a deep blue flush on his neck. His squad mates guffawed, all except one. Nobody noticed Garrus giving Aius the evil eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, another Thursday release, but I really have worked my ass off to get this chapter done, since I still have to write that crack fic too, and I was planning on doing that tomorrow. Speaking of which, S&B has been out-liked by The problem with flirting, something I suspect has something to do with the fresh release of Andromeda, and not a subtle hint from the world that I should stick to writing humor fics. :D 
> 
> My old writing program Liquid Story Binder Ex has not been updated for years, and since I and the AO3 format has been disagreeing for months, I decided to fork over for a new one called Writeitnow 5. Hopefully I can find and erase more errors with it, but I wouldn't bet on it before I've tested it some more. Looks promising so far.  
> Storywise we are closing in on the field exam, a chapter that was partially written looong before the rest of the story. Hopefully it will not have turned stale in the interim.  
> Happy weekend :D


	27. Blood tests and other examinations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard has a meeting with Publius, and Garrus wants to have a word before Fivex.

**2175 CE – January 13 th  – Mess Hall – 19:36 PM **

“Afternoon, Shepard,” Emerus grinned as she sat down by the table. “I see you’re feeling a lot better lately.

Shepard returned the smile. “I do, actually. This is one of the few times I’ve been able to have dinner here while the commander is on the station. Good thing too, I’m starving.”

“Me too,” Arista said. “My workload is killing me. Not that I can tell you what I’m working on.”

“Is that so?” Shepard pretended to think real hard. “Someone that should have been made a squad leader based on her excellent performance first year of boot is taken out of rotation and given a secret curriculum. This can in no way be related to being headhunted to a special program? Maybe Spectre-training? Oooor.. Blackwatch?”

There was a subdued cough from Emerus, and Arista looked scandalized. “How do you-.. I never said anything!”

Shepard shrugged. “Not like it’s much different for humans. Exceptional individuals get picked out while still in school. The rest of us has to work hard to get what we want.” She winked at Arista and started wolfing down her dinner.

“I’m not confirming or denying anything.”

“Or maybe you’re training to be a politician,” Shepard said with a mouthful of grub.

“Ew, stop that, human!” Emerus grimaced. “It’s disgusting.”

“All right, all right. Wimp.”

Emerus and Shepard ate while Arista stared at the content of her plate. “I’m sure I never said anything.”

“You didn’t,” Shepard grinned, “but if you continue harping on this it will be construed as confirmation.”

“Right. Not another word then. Let’s talk about you instead. I hear you’re groping your underlings in training, is that correct?”

This time it was Shepard’s turn to look scandalized. “What?!”

“Oh, just a rumor flying by. Apparently, one Aius Uticensis has been telling everyone who would listen that you have a thing for turians,” Arista crooned.

“Another one, Shepard? Last time it was Vakarian, and before that Decian. Might want to get some ointment for the chafing,” Emerus laughed.

“I hope your plates wither, both of you,” Shepard said in a sweet voice.

“What are we discussing?” Celsus asked as he sat down beside Shepard with his tray.

“Shepard’s appetite for turians,” Arista smiled.

“Ah, that. Decian is in a bit of a foul mood, he heard about that too.”

“Come on,” Shepard complained, “it was just for fun. I was telling the story about the Fornax pages in my room, and Aius asked if I liked naked turians. I was just teasing him.”

There was a loud hum of subvocals around her.

“Hey, not fair! I can’t understand your underhanded communication.”

“Here he comes.” Emerus nodded in the direction of an oncoming turian.

“Hi.” Chellick sat down without another word and refused to meet anyone’s eyes.

“Oh, I’d say he’s heard plenty,” Emerus snickered.

“Hello, gorgeous,” Shepard smiled and gave him a small nudge.

A short grumble was the only reply.

“Aw, Decian is jealous.” Arista whispered to Emerus.

“I think so too,” he whispered back. “Very unbecoming.”

“You know everyone can hear you, right?” Shepard said, pretending to be annoyed. “Hello Decian, how was your day?”

Chellick still refused to answer and merely started opening his nutri-paste packages.

“Hi, is this the unofficial gathering of squad leaders?” They all looked up at the unexpected visitor. It was Santiago from Squad Three. He waved a hand and smiled broadly.

“We’ve been working together a while, but I don’t really know you guys. Mind if I sit down?”

“Uh, not at all,” Celsus said and they all shuffled closer to make room for him.

“I’m Miguel Santiago, leader of Three.”

“Hi Miguel, I’m Arista Nerva. Looking good out on the field today,” she thrummed at him.

“Really? Thanks.” Santiago took on a slight red color, but sat down.

Arista gave Shepard a quick mandible flick and she caught on immediately. Arista was up to something.

“Hi, I’m Jane Shepard. We’ve met many times earlier, if you recall?”

“How could I forget? Whenever you show up, there’s always trouble.”

“Aw, thanks. I’d hate to think I was boring.”

“You’re anything but,” he chuckled.

The three male turians around the table peered at the intruder. Why would a turian female signal interest in this guy?

“Emerus Victus, in the running for top team this year,” Emerus said, observing the newcomer closely.

“I know. I’ve been studying your team’s results, trying to copy your success. Hasn’t worked out so well for me yet.”

“Maybe that’s because of the people on your team. Celsus Corinthus here.”

“The captain’s boy, right?” Santiago said, still smiling. “Standing before your father is bloodcurdling, but it helps to stand beside a friendly face.” He winked at Shepard.

“Decian Chellick,” Chellick suddenly growled and held out a hand in the customary human greeting. Santiago took it and shook it politely.

“Hi, I’ve seen you around. Ouch, that’s quite the grip there, Chellick.”

Shepard gave Chellick a gentle elbow in his side to get him to release his hold on Santiago’s hand.

“Sorry. Turians are naturally more powerful than humans,” he said in a voice that was far from apologetic.

“But you seem to be quite the strong guy yourself,” Arista said to Santiago. “You’re a lot bigger and bulkier than the other human males I’ve seen here. Is it natural, or do you need to train much?”

Three pairs of turian eyes glared at Arista. Santiago didn’t notice, he had taken on a more intense shade of red.

“It’s, uh, it’s both. I’m rather broad shouldered by nature, but I work out a lot too.”

“Looks great on you. Is your face considered handsome among humans? Perhaps we could work out together one day?”

Emerus stared in disbelief at Arista, then turned to Santiago and let out a low growl. The message was plain enough, even for a human.

“That’s an interesting.. I mean, maybe.. You’re really, uh.. I have to go.” He jumped up and practically ran from their table.

“What was that about?” Emerus crossed his arms. “What if I behaved like that?”

“Oh, shut it, Emerus. That was for Decian.”

Chellick looked nonplussed. “Huh?”

“ _That_ was something to be jealous about, not Shepard having a little fun at Aius’ expense in front of his friends. Grow up!”

“I wasn’t.. I’m not..” he tried, but Emerus, seeing light in the end of the tunnel, jumped on board.

“Yeah, serves you right. Getting worked up over nothing. Good thing my girlfriend was here to clear things up.”

Celsus chuffed. “Yeah, good thing you weren’t jealous, Emerus.”

Chellick thought about it for a moment, then looked sheepishly at Shepard. “She’s right. We’re good?”

“Always.” Shepard gave his thigh a slight squeeze under the table.

“So Arista, who else looked good out there today,” Celsus said, clearly not done teasing Emerus.

“Well, there was Santiago, and Zhang, Carlsson..” Arista began.

“Hey! Stop that!”

“Davidson, Althaus, Borsin..”

Okay, okay, I get it. And Decian gets it too. No need to rub it in.”

“Depends on the rubbing,” Arista hummed at her glowering boyfriend.

 

**2175 CE – January 16 th  – Med Bay – 17:18 PM **

“What’s up, doc?” Shepard said to her resident physician.

“I’d like to know why almost every human on this station like saying that,” Publius said, ruffling through a stack of datapads. “It gets old after the first 20 times.”

“Sorry,” she grinned. “I’ll find something new. This is about those tests?”

“It is indeed. First things first, I have seen the new scan of your ribs. The bones that were fractured are healing well, and I think you will be fine to resume light training with the rest of the squad, and you should be fully healed to the field exam.”

Shepard pressed three fingers in her side, noting no great discomfort, only a dull ache.

“As for the other matter, I’ve had difficulties making an accurate prognosis, since this is pioneering work with minute samples, but I’ve come to a few conclusions I think are sound.”

“Okay,” Shepard said doubtfully. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“That remains to be seen.” Publius found the right datapad and opened his file on Shepard.

“Here it is. It appears that contact with the turian bonding pheromone caused your brain to construct new neural pathways which increased your levels of oxytocin and vasopressin above that which is normal for a human partner. The longer you stay in a relationship with a turian, the more said network will probably grow.” Publius clicked his mandibles and looked uncomfortable. “With the neural development I’ve already seen, even if the existing connection was to be severed, it is probable that your future choice of mate will have a bias towards rebuilding the existing underlying network.”

Shepard tried to keep up with the things he was saying. “So, the result of my relationship with one turian is.. that I have developed a preference for all turians?”

“Yes.” Publius looked apprehensive.

“Oh.” She stared blankly at him. “An exclusive preference?”

“Uhm, no, I don’t think so. However, if you meet a human male and a turian male, if all other attributes are equal, such as virility, strength, intelligence and so forth, your brain will nudge you towards the turian.”

“Oh.”

“Oh is not really the response I’m looking for here, Shepard. Are you angry? Upset? Sad? Shocked?”

“Flabbergasted comes to mind.”

“Better than oh, at least.”

“Is it reversible?”

“That’s hard to say. There are some experimental phero-blockers being developed for turians, but they are very unreliable and can cause permanent damage. The need for such medications is extremely rare, since the last process of life bonding is done conscientiously by consenting partners, but there has been instances where bonding was forced upon another.”

“Oh.”

“Say that one more time, and I will get irked, Shepard.”

“O-.. right. How can someone force a bond?”

“It springs from the old portions of the turian hind brain, from a time when turians were more aggressive and feral. A turian biting through the soft hide of another usually meant to kill or dominate. The bite worked as a trigger that could cause a sudden release of pheromones from either fighter, even when one part does not wish the bond. It was a way to either kill the outsider or enforce loyalty to the new pack. Bloodletting only works on adult turians, by the way. Adolescent turians don’t produce enough bonding pheromones, their bodies are busy with growing cartilage.” Publius twitched his mandibles. “Among my people, biting another turian that has not consented to the act is considered anathema.”

Shepard glanced at him sideways. “So, turians don’t bite anymore?”

His mandibles flared widely, as if hearing a private joke. “Turians bite plenty, but only between partners that like that sort of thing. And rarely to the point of bloodletting. It’s considered.. kinky, I think humans say. Old fashioned, but not out of style.”

“Have you ever bitten anyone?”

Publius cocked his head and gave her a condescending frown. “You’re not my doctor, Shepard. I don’t have to answer such impertinent questions.”

“So you have?” She didn’t even bother with hiding her grin.

“If you have no other comment about your own results than prying into my sex life, I think we’re done for now.”

“Hey, I might need further advice on this.” Shepard knew she was pressing her luck.

“I will get you a pamphlet.”

“A pamphlet? You're kidding me.”

“Hmm. Perhaps we don’t have that much information about this available to humans. Maybe a flyer?”

“Haha. I’ll ask my boyfriend, then.”

“You do that. And I advice you to tell him about this.”

“That I have become uncontrollably attracted to all turians? Sure. I say, those are some adorable long mandibles you have, doctor.”

“That’s it! You’ve had your 40minutes. Time for the next patient. Shoo!” Publius looked both embarrassed and flattered as he pushed her towards the door.

“If you have any pertinent questions about this, my door is always open.”

He gave an embarrassed cough, then closed the door in her face. Shepard didn’t much mind. She had been rather imprudent, after all.

 

**2175 CE – January 16 th  – Library – 20:23 PM **

“Preference for turians?” Chellick said incredulously. “How is that possible?”

“Some turian creep bonded with me without warning,” Shepard grinned. “Shame on him.”

“Please, don’t say that. Makes me feel like a criminal.” He hung his head.

“Hey, it was a joke. There was no anathema done. And I liked you before the bond too.”

“Yeah?” Chellick lightened up. “I like you too. How did you know about anathema?”

“Publius told me about it. And kinky turians.”

“We’re not kinky!”

“No? You like to nip at my neck. Is that a preamble to chomping down and having your way with me?”

Shepard felt his body shake with chuffing laughter.

“A nip is a harmless show of affection. Biting is not my thing. From what Arista has let slip, Emerus likes it. Celsus does not.”

“Hey, why aren’t I privy to these discussions?”

“Because you’re always in here, pretending to work.” He nipped her neck playfully. “Just because you have preference, I’m still the only boyfriend you’re allowed.”

“You can’t be serious? I must keep my connection with the human world alive. How about letting me have Santiago in the weekends?”

“Never,” he growled and tickled her undamaged rib.

“Iiih. How about every other Thursday?”

“Forget it.” Chellick slid a hand under her top, caressing her breast.

“Unfair,” she gasped. “Every third month when there is a full moon on earth?”

“All mine,” he hissed and started pulling off her undersuit.

“We are going to be discovered up here one day,” she smiled and raised her hips to let him remove the bottom half.

“At least everyone would know who your boyfriend is,” he replied and pressed his mouth plates on her lips.

Publius was right, Shepard thought as Chellick kissed and licked his way down her body. If there was a choice between the likes of Santiago on one hand and Decian on the other, she would definitely chose Decian.

 

**2175 CE – January 19 th  – Locker Room – 17:00 PM **

The last of her fresh clean sports-bras and socks were tucked away on the shelves, and Shepard closed the locker with a sigh. One more day until the exam. They’d better be ready. Emerus and Chellick was both rearing to go, hoping to push her from the throne, but she wasn’t ready to admit defeat yet. All those hours in the sim seemed to have payed off, and their shooting was-..

Out of nowhere, Garrus was standing beside her.

“Aaargh!”

“Aaah! What!? What!?” He swiveled his head around, trying to spot the danger.

Shepard took several deep breaths, trying to overcome the mortification of being frightened by Garrus Vakarian.

“Can you not sneak up on me in the future? I don’t have a spare heart like the krogan.”

“I didn’t mean to. I just.. I wanted to talk to you alone. You said I could come find you any time,” he said humbly, as if she might have withdrawn the invitation.

“It’s all right. Just jumping at shadows. Anything in particular you want to discuss?”

“..Yes.”

He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Ahoy turian problems, Shepard thought, but didn’t say it out loud.

“Do you want me to guess, or..?”

“It’s about my dad,” he blurted.

“Oookay,” Shepard sat down. “This is going to be an awkward interspecies thing, isn’t it?”

“Probably,” he admitted and placed himself on the bench opposite her. “The day I.. the day we.. uh..” he began, but the words got stuck in his throat.

“I think I know which day and incident you mean, go on.” Shepard gave him a friendly smile which he gratefully returned.

“Thanks. I just spoke to my dad, I said some things I maybe shouldn’t have.”

“That’s understandable. You were angry and upset. I’m sure your father knows that.”

If anyone had ever told Shepard that she would be doing family counseling for the son of Galenus Vakarian, she would have laughed at them, and yet here she was. Even if Garrus had started to grow on her, Vakarian senior was another matter.

“We’re supposed to put in requests for vid-calls every other month, and for me that’s one month away.”

“And you’re not going to?”

“I don’t know,” he said glumly. “I meant what I said to him. You remember? About the.. the shame and our markings?”

“I remember.”

“What do you think?”

Shepard blinked. “You’re asking me if you should call your father?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because of what you told me on the silo. You’re honest with me.” Garrus met her gaze with a sad expression. “What do you think I should do?”

Shepard said nothing for several minutes. There was an inferno of churning thoughts in her head, the smallest and pettiest told that she could really hurt Galenus Vakarian by turning his son against him. Make him feel the pain her mother had felt for years. Then there was the other voice, the one saying that this wasn’t a choice at all. It was a question of duty, to her squad, and to the well being of someone that trusted her. How she’d ever managed to make Garrus rely on her judgment after her treatment of him was a mystery, but there he sat, looking forlorn. Her grudge against Vakarian the elder would not make her injure Garrus again.

“I think you should make the request. He’s still your father, and you might want to yell and swear at him some more.”

Garrus chuffed. “Probably. I’ve never been so let down in my life, hearing what he had say.”

“Sadly, our parents are only human. Or turian, as in your case. If it makes you feel any better, while I might not lie to you, I lie to my mom all the time. She wouldn’t approve of me having turian friends.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but instantly closed it again.

“What was that?” she smiled.

“Nothing. You must tell many lies then.”

“A lot.”

“But not to me?”

“Nope. I might not tell the whole truth all the time, but so far no outright lies.” She remembered something. “Oh, right. For the sake of full disclosure, I have told you a blatant lie once. I’m not allergic to dextro.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d be,” he said, flaring his mandibles.

“How do you know?”

Garrus started fidgeting with his talons. “Uh, because.. you would have broken out in hives after I regurgitated on you.”

“Ah. Right. Makes sense.”

Garrus looked very relieved. “Yeah. So, uh, thanks for the advice. I have maintenance duty, so..”

“Take heart, it’s only one more month, and you’re free.” Shepard smiled at him again, but he returned her smile with a look of.. pity? That particular turian expression wasn’t too familiar, and she couldn’t be sure.

“Right.”

“Are you doing all right with that? Getting the right nutrition and all?”

“Yes, I get food a little later, but other than that I’m good.”

“Good. Ready for the big day tomorrow?”

“I think so. I hope we’re ready.”

“With, your shooting you better be a lock in that competition, or else,” she joked.

Garrus grinned. “I’m top three on the station. Top two, if I’m honest.”

“Ooh, cocky. I like it.”

He’d half turned away when he stopped. “Do you like me?”

This was new territory, and she hesitated.

“When you say like..”

“You said on the silo that you would like us to get along better. But do you like me? In the same way you like Strabo, or Aius?” His voice rose a pitch at the last name.

“I don’t know as much about you as I do the others, but what I know thus far I like. We’ll just have to work on the rest, right? Starting with you acing that shooting contest tomorrow.” She gave him a playful prod on his cowl.

“Hah! You’ll love me by the end of that,” he said confidently.

They glanced at each other and started to laugh. Shepard felt a lot better about tomorrow. If the rest of the squad was as self assured as Garrus, they would wipe the floor with Emerus.

 

**2175 CE – January 20 th  – Fivex **

The last small exam was a surprise to all participants. The judges had switched every discipline to unsettle the contestants, which meant hand to hand was first, followed by cooperative team exercises on the field, fast run through the hostage rescue sim, timed speed runs with hacking and when everyone was tired and worn, the firing contest.

Garrus kept his breathing steady, lazily flicking a mandible in Castor’s direction. Their field medic had never been a sharpshooter, but meticulous training had afforded him a fair enough average score to not sink the squad. He still struggled to keep calm before the last run. They were neck and neck with Squad Seven, their arch rival, and Garrus knew Shepard and Victus would be glued to the score board to follow their last round. Speed and accuracy was hard enough when you were alert and ready, but after a long day of exams, there was a pronounced drop in accuracy from most of the students. Not him though. Garrus smiled to himself. He still had a perfect score and it was important to keep it that way. To win, of course, it wasn’t like he really believed Shepard would fall for him if he could shoot straight. _Couldn’t hurt either,_ a treacherous voice said in the back of his head. Garrus checked the heat sink again. Not like she’d date a first-year anyway, even if she didn’t have a boyfriend. And certainly not Aius, no matter how many times he bragged how she’d stroked his mandible.

 

The loud ringing of the starting bell sounded, and they ran down the field. Garrus loved the discipline ‘dynamic shooting’, as the humans called it. Just move and shoot, pop the heatsink, insert new, move and shoot. First stage, 30 meter dash and standing 5 shot series, second stage, 25 meter dash and firing three shots from prone position. Third stage, 15 meter crawl and firing 4 shots from cover. Final stage was 20 meter sprint, switch weapon and fire two headshots on moving targets.

Garrus had rarely felt a rush like those last 20 meters when he ran far ahead of the pack to the last targets, pulled his pistol and fired off two perfect headshots before running in to a clear victory.

He was greeted at the finish line by an ecstatic Shepard, whom enveloped him in a crushing hug.

“You did it! You fucking aced it!” she all but shouted in his ear. He didn’t care. He flicked his eyes towards the towering figure of Decian Chellick who had to stand there and pretend like nothing while Shepard hugged him like a madwoman. Garrus tried to contain his prideful hum, but some low tones escaped him. Chellick pointedly looked away and stared at the scoreboard. Shepard only released him so she could go to croon at Emerus Victus, who stood by the sideline, looking dejected.

“That was some run, Garrus,” Strabo gasped behind him. He and Mevia had come in about the same time.

“It was nothing,” Garrus said, trying to sound humble and failing badly.

“It was pretty good,” Mevia said and trilled a soft challenge at him. It made Strabo swivel his head and stare at her.

“What? Mevia?”

“Look, here comes Castor and Argyle.” Garrus pointed towards the finish line.

“Where’s Nirea and Aius?” Strabo looked around.

“Aius is over there, Nirea was right behind us,” I think she’s over there, trying to flirt with Corinthus the younger.” Mivea grinned and pointed a talon.

They turned around, and there was Nirea, making Celsus Corinthus’s neck flush blue with her trills and purrs.

“That’s my girl,” Argyle said when he reached them. “Told her to just go for it after the exam.”

“Go for it? Any more direct, and they’d be humping in the common rooms of the library,” Aius snickered.

There was a sudden coughing fit behind them. Shepard had returned and tried desperately to clear her throat. The red color on her face was notable.

“You all right, Shepard?” Castor said and patted her on the back.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she croaked. “We won again, guys. Champions of the station, so hit the shower and prepare for dinner.”

“We’re the best,” Aius shouted and took off on a victory lap as Squad Four was announced station wide as the victors.

“Only one month until the field exam.” Strabo sounded like he was preparing for a funeral.

“Would you shut it? Tonight is for us,” Castor chided.

“Will you be joining us at dinner, Shepard?” It was Argyle who asked, but they all quieted down and stared at her.

Shepard looked at her onmi-tool. The inbox was empty. She could hardly believe it.

“It looks like I am.”

“Good,” Mivea smiled and patted her on the shoulder. “It’s about damn time as well.”

“Truth!” Strabo looked pleased.

“It would be nice.” Garrus flashed a careful smile.

Shepard looked over her squad with a grin. “Yes, it will be.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? A whole chapter with only nice(?) things happening? Gods, no.. Can't breathe... blargh..  
> I do believe that next chapter will be the field exam, the first time Garrus and Shepard will work together in the real world. Will their newfound understanding hold? Or will they crack under pressure? We'll see. ;)
> 
> On another note, the next chapter might be delayed, since I'm going away this weekend and won't be able to write. Rest assured, the fic is not forgotten :D


	28. The Field Exam, Day One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally the big day arrives!  
> Shepard and her squad needs to work together with another squad to win, but while things seem to be going their way for the first hours, somebody leaves the camp in pursuit of glory and fame all alone.

**2175 CE – January 27 th  – Locker Room – 23:02 **

“Who was it today?”

Chellick tore open a packet of medigel and poured on a black bruise on Shepard’s back.

“My squad,” she muttered. “He made me kill them with both gun and biotics. If I was slow, he reaved me.” She smiled her sarcastic lopsided grin. “At least he allowed me to use a barrier.”

“Bastard. At least these are not open wounds.”

She gasped involuntary when he grazed the darkest patch.

“Sorry.”

“Not your fault.”’

Chellick heard the flat tone and knew she was still deep in her ‘dead-zone’, the one that made her able to carry all the crap the commander tried to drown her in. He’d always managed to coax her out of it, but it took longer and longer each time. If she was to remain under his care, she might disappear inside her own head, never to return. He would not have that.

“Jane, look at me. Jane?”

Shepard broke her intense focus of not allowing herself to feel anything and met his gaze.

“Hmm?”

“He’s not here. I am. Don’t do that thing with me, please?”

She hid her face in her hands. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, but he.. I feel like I’m becoming a mindless weapon around him, and then you’re here, and I can’t turn it off!”

“You think you could hurt me?”

“Maybe.”

“I don’t think that.”

“Keep believing that, maybe it’ll become true.”

He knelt beside her and nuzzled his face on her cheek. “I’ll follow you to the bio-barracks. I don’t care who sees us.”

“Decian?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

He rose and pulled her into his arms.

“I just wish I could do more.”

While they waited for the medigel to take effect, his purring was the only thing heard in the room.

 

**2175 CE – February 10 th – Shooting Range– 11:59 AM**

“What the fuck is your problem?” Mevia pushed Argyle in the chest.

“You, you fucking hag! Get out of my line of sight unless you want me to blow your empty head clean off your shoulders!” he bellowed back.

“Take it down a notch, do you want Shepard to get over here?” Strabo glanced backwards to the overlook perch.

“Listen to the suck-up,” Mevia scoffed. “Think she will give you a good write-up because you take sides with that idiot?” She pointed at Argyle.

“Or perhaps you think taking sides with this gorgon will get you laid?” Argyle flipped Mevia a very rude finger.

Mevia let out a screech and charged, catching in his midriff. Both of them landed in a ditch and rolled around, exchanging blows. Strabo was confounded, not wanting to insult Mevia or being accused of taking sides with her.

“Spirits, here she comes,” Garrus hissed and motioned to a figure jumping off the overlook and floating down in a shimmering bubble. “Get those two idiots separated.”

Castor and Garrus hopped into the ditch after them and pulled them apart. Neither was willing to let the other go so easily.

“You’re an asshole!” Mevia spat.

“And you look like a batarian with mandibles!” Argyle bit back.

“What?! I do NOT!”

“Could’ve fooled me!”

“ENOUGH!” One word cut through the din, and both the turian and the human shut their mouth.

“What the fuck is this lunacy?! You just made me a laughing stock among the other squad leaders!”

“Sorry, Shepard,” Castor said.

“Don’t fucking dare apologize for them,” Shepard barked. “What is this? Mevia? Argyle? Answer me!”

“She walked in front of my gun,” Argyle volunteered.

“It wasn’t even loaded,” Mevia retorted.

“You didn’t know that!”

“Stop!” Shepard cut her hand through the air, signaling an end to the shouting match. She took a few breaths, tapping her fingers against the leg holster.

“This has little to do with neither a heatsink nor a passing-by. I know that tempers are flying high now that the Field Exam is a mere 10 days away, but this is precisely the kind of incidents we must avoid. Now many of the other squad leaders know we have dissension in our ranks. One of them might be paired against us and use this to their advantage. Is that what you want?”

“No, Shepard,” the squad chorused.

“At least we agree on that. Continue the fire drill. If I see one more unauthorized brawl, the ones responsible will regret it.”

“Yes, Shepard.”

 

**2175 CE – February 15 th – Mess Hall – 08:31 AM**

“Stop slurping, it’s fucking annoying.” Squad Four stared at the usually docile Castor, who was now glaring daggers at Strabo.

“Huh? This is how I usually eat.”

“No, this is how you usually slurp and make noises, with table manners like a krogan. Cut it the fuck out.”

“Back off, _medic_! When you can shoot straight, you can come back to me about noisy eating.”

“Oh yeah!? How about I give you a lesson in manners right this moment?” Castor slammed both fists on the table and got up, growling at Strabo.

The students on the other tables started edging away from the impending fight.

“From you? That’s a fucking jest! I’ll-..”

“Do nothing and sit your ass down, Strabo Calan! Same for you, Sorio!” Shepard had arrived, her figure shimmering with biotic powers she tried to hold back. The two turians ignored her and continued to growl at each other. Shepard gritted her teeth and placed a heavy hand on Strabo’s cowl, forcing him down into his chair. She pointed a finger to Castor’s seat. “ _Down!_ ”

The Mess Hall was filled with low snickering.

“That’s 6 rounds in the obstacle course for both of you! Be grateful it’s not more!” The look on her face prevented further arguments. 5 more days. Nerves were fraying among all of them. Only Garrus tried to hide a smile. It was great not being the one in trouble for once.

 

**2175 CE – February 18 th – Armory – 18:22 PM**

“Got the last of our equipment checked?”

“Yes Shepard. The sim-suits are all in good conditions, the laser targets on our rifles are accurate.” Garrus placed the last rifle in it’s crate and locked it. “Thank you for getting me out of maintenance duty five days early.”

The crate shimmered blue, and they lifted it easily onto the pile marked ‘Exam.’

“No problem. You’ve done exemplary work, Corinthus wasn’t hard to sway.”

She picked up a rag and wiped her hands. “How are you holding up? You and Nirea seem to be impervious to the stress.”

Garrus leaned up against the wall. “I’m fine. Honestly, I’m more stressed about talking to my dad. I’ve been given the first call after we return from the field.”

Shepard lobbed the rag in a large curve towards the bin, and missed completely.

“Nice to see you can’t do everything well,” Garrus grinned.

“Heh, just warm-up. Given any thoughts to what you’re going to say?” Shepard wandered over and picked up the rag, dropping it in the basket.

“Not really. Kind of hoping he would do the talking.” He scratched on a loose wood splinter. “Any ideas?”

“Lots, but maybe not suitable for Galenus’ son,” Shepard chuckled.

“What did your mother tell you? About that day?” Garrus had been dying to ask, and the words slipped from him before he could rethink it.

The mood in the room shifted, and they stood gauging the others response. Shepard relented first.

“From what I know, your father was on a mission to secure a missile silo. Most of his team ended up in a mine field, but your father survived, albeit injured. Mom took him as a prisoner of war, brought him to a hospital. I don’t know why.”

“The tunnels?”

“The metro, yes. It was an underground transportation system. In wartime, often used as shelter for civilians.”

“Was there a military presence there?”

“Some. Not many, as most were at one front or another, but enough to defend the civilians from a small attack.”

“Go on.”

“They didn’t have translators, so they couldn’t understand what the alien, your dad, said. He couldn’t understand them either. I’m told my dad tried to communicate with yours by holding up different things and saying the words in English, then having him say the word in Palaveni.” Shepard smiled sadly. “They told me he was very curious, always asking questions.”

“Sorry.” Garrus didn’t know what else to say.

“Not your fault. Anyway, your father faked an injury and got out, locking my dad in the cage and took two hostages. He made it to the surface and called down the planetstrike. Everyone in those tunnels died. There was no escaping the blast.” Shepard spoke slowly, as if she had to will the words out of her mouth.

Garrus swallowed and stared at the floor. He’d almost said sorry again, but what would be the point?

“Well, that was… jolly.” Shepard forced a strained smile and rallied her spirits. “Neither you nor I had a hand in that. I say we don’t bring it up again, and focus on the trials ahead. Agreed?” She held out a hand and he seized it gratefully.

“Agreed!”

 

 

**2175 CE – February 20 th – Transport Vessel – 04:12 AM**

The grand day had arrived, and Squad Two and Four had been drawn to fight on the same side. Shepard and Celsus stood at attention in front of the ship’s captain with the rest of their now joined teams lingering in the background.

“We’ll be ground-side in 4 hours. The exam will begin as soon as you’ve disembarked. Squads 9 and 14 has been given the defensive position, and you will need to take them out. You will have 72 standard earth hours to complete the exercise, if you fail to overrun their position by then, you’ve lost. The planets natural rotation is 64,1 earth hours, expect jet lag and sleep deprivation.

“Which planet is this, sir?” Celsus asked.

“Eden Prime. We’ve been assigned to a remote valley, perfect for this kind of training. The air is breathable, but I would advice against drinking the water. Filters are still required in most places, so only eat and drink the rations in your packs.”

“Eden Prime,” Shepard said dreamily. “They say it’s paradise in space.”

“Not for you, Shepard.” Vyrnnus walked in. “Good morning, students.”

A low grumbling answer of ‘good mornings’ rose from the squads. They’d heard of the commander.

“We have one small detail to square away before the fun begins. Shepard, you’re a third year and a biotic. As the only biotic among these recruits, that would be an unfair advantage.”

“I understand, sir. I won’t use my biotics then.”

“If only it was that easy,” Vyrnnus said, smirking. “Unfortunately we can’t risk you cheating on the exam.”

“You can’t take away our leader 4 hours before landing,” Garrus protested. He’d closed up behind Shepard and stood right behind her. “It’s not right!”

Vyrnnus flared his mandibles in recognition. “Ah, Vakarian the younger. How strange, seeing you trying to help this human,” he said, pointing at Shepard. “Luckily for you, I have no such plans. No, there is an easier way to restrict biotic excesses.” The commander fetched a small box and picked out a bio-inhibitor collar, not unlike the one they’d slapped on her the day after she attacked Garrus.

“This will record any biotic discharges you make, Shepard. I think you can guess what’ll happen if you try to circumvent it?”

An intermittent tremor manifested itself in her right arm. Garrus noticed, and deftly took her shaking hand in his left, shielding the act from their teammates standing in the back and from Vyrnnus himself. Shepard regained her voice.

“I remember, sir. I won’t try anything of the kind.”

“But, I’m not completely heartless. Corinthus and I have agreed on a compromise. You’re allowed three biotic maneuvers before the collar will shock you.”

There was an uneasy stir from the students.

“To compensate for your biotic capabilities, your two opposing squads have been granted a second-year specialist on their team. That person does not have the restrictions you do, and will remain operational until he or she is taken out.”

“That’s not right,” Celsus interjected, “They’ve been given an unfair advantage.”

“You haven’t seen what Shepard can do,” Vyrnnus sneered. “Allow her a free reign and she would cut through the regular students like toy soldiers.”

The backhanded compliment didn’t make Shepard’s arm quit trembling, but Garrus used Celsus’ conversation with the commander to lean down to her ear.

“Got your six, Shepard.” His heart jumped when she gave his talons a quick squeeze, before releasing them as she stepped forward.

“I’m ready for anything, sir. Put it on.”

“As you wish, Shepard. Might be a good idea to get used to this before you land.” He opened the collar and clicked it around her neck. When the lock whirred shut, Shepard felt her air supply being cut off.

“Wait, it’s too tight,” she hacked.

“Oh dear,” Vyrnnus smirked, “can’t fathom how that happened. Just a second.”

Squad Two and Four stared in horror as Vyrnnus took his sweet time readjusting the collar, while Shepard gasped for air. Garrus wanted to slash the commander’s bare face, but knew it would bring only misery to both of them. After all, choking her was merely a _mishap_.

“There you are,” Vyrnnus said smugly, opening the collar enough for her to breathe.

“Thank you, sir,” Shepard croaked, and reverted to standing at attention.

 

They moved to the hold to prepare for the drop, and while the security brief went on for another 20 minutes relaying rules and restrictions, Garrus kept looking at Shepard’s discreet attempts to lessen the chafing around her neck. After a while she caught on, and gave him a quick thumbs up to tell him not to worry. It helped a little, but he wasn’t entirely satisfied. Every surprise and handicap would lessen their chances at winning, and this one had been sprung on them without any warning. Winning was the most important thing, after all, not that she’d wrapped those soft weird fingers around his talons and held them for a moment. He adjusted himself and focused on the brief. There was no room for mistakes, and he would obey orders to the letter. He could be a good turian too.

 

The shuttle descended into a green forest valley. Shepard caught a glimpse of vast expanses of green fields and kilometers upon kilometers of snaking rivers glittering like blue diamonds, zigzagging the landscape. When the cargo bay doors was opened, the blue skies made her squint after so many months of controlled lighting on the station. The students were given a new special designed omni-tool designed to record hits and impatiently jumped off the ship and awaited their comrades. Shepard grabbed her rifle and was on her way to disembark when her arm was caught in a steel grip by the commander.

“Remember the terms of your agreement, Shepard. If Vakarian gets ‘killed,’ you’re out of the station. Same goes for massive losses on your team. If they can’t hack it, neither will you.”

“What? We’ve won most exams on the school, and you still want to evict me?”

“It’s not that I want to,” Vyrnnus said with insincere concern, “but a deal’s a deal. You’ve been warned.” He pushed her towards the exit.

The rest of her squad was already ground-side, and she ran to catch up with them.

“Everyone all right?”

“Yep, ready to fight and win.” Aius flared his mandibles so wide all his teeth glinted in his mouth.

“Keep that optimism, we’re going to need it.”

“Shepard, over here!” It was Celsus calling her over to an impromptu HQ on a wide rock.

“Sorry about that,” he said and nodded to her collar.

“Yeah, but what can one do? I should have expected some trick from that man,” she shrugged. “How does it look?”

“The other squads should be over here,” he pointed on the map. “They’ve been dropped directly into their ‘fortress’ to make it defendable as soon as possible.”

“And we’re over here, which makes it a two hour trek to where we should set up camp.” Shepard drew a line with her finger over some uneven terrain.

“Three hours, you mean,” Celsus corrected. “You won’t get turians to swim that.”

“Damn! Three hours, then. If I was them, I’d send one or two two-man teams to cut us off and harass or ambush us on the way there, just to slow us down.”

“Maybe, if they think like you.”

“I’ve got the remedy for that, Mevia is an exceptional scout, I’d like to see what gets past her if she takes point,” Shepard smiled.

The students who were pretending not to listen turned eye towards the recon scout, whom also had overheard the exchange, and brimmed with pride.

“All right, Mevia in front, I have a scout myself who can take over is she gets tired.”

Over at her end, Mevia scoffed. There was no way she would let this opportunity slip her grasp.

“Right. Single column march, I don’t want anyone getting lost before we reach the summit.” Shepard signaled Mevia over and explained the route. Mevia nodded and plotted on her own map.

“Everyone, I want you to do a check of your omni-tool frequency. Try calling me, one by one.”

“Right. I’ll do an inspection of the sim-suits and report when we’re ready to start,” Celsus said and headed down the line.

“Strabo check.”

“Mevia check.”

“Borsin check.”

They ran the whole list and everyone’s tool functioned properly, except for an occasional interference on the channels. Shepard tried to change it, and it was present on every available channel.

“Might be interference from the planet’s com-arrays,” Nirea suggested. “Or the judges supervising our actions.”

“At least it doesn’t distort the sound to a great degree,” Strabo added. “We’ll manage.”

“Sim-suits all responding, I’ve reported that we’re clear,” Celsus said when he returned. “You?”

“Comms working, with a minor background noise,” Shepard said. “Reporting in that we’re clear to start.”

All sixteen omni-tools beeped with a single message: T minus 71 hours and 59 minutes, 59 seconds.

“Let’s move out,” Shepard shouted.

 

The three hour trek up to their designated camp area was long and hot, and the collar around her neck was gnawing her skin raw. They hadn’t been encountered an enemy ambush like Shepard expected. In her opinion it was a waste of planning on the enemy’s part. Squads Fourteen and Nine knew the location of their camp site, but remained turtled on their own turf. This meant that Squad Four and Two would have to break through their fully defended lines without having taken out a few beforehand. It would be a tough fight.

 

“Strabo, pick two sentries and station them around the area. We need to build a camp before we decide what to do next.”

“Borsin, two of ours as well.” Celsus ordered.

“A human as your second, Celsus? My, my..”

“Shut it. He was the best for the job, and I went with it. Haven’t regretted it once,” he smiled back.

“Didn’t think you would. Good judgment. Usually,” she winked and nodded at Nirea.

“I, uh, that’s.. not part of the Field Exam.”

“Maybe later?” Shepard enjoyed teasing him.

“Uuuhh,” was the only sound he made and she waved him off.

“Okay, okay, but later, I _will_ ask about it.”

“Fine. Now, for the real problems.” He turned to the remaining members of Two and Four “The rest of you, set up the tents and dig the latrine!” he ordered.

 

While they got busy, Shepard checked the timer. _T minus 68 hours and 32 minutes._ She unraveled the map again.

“We need to set up a small defensive perimeter of our own, in case they try something.”

“Agreed. More people on the east than west, seeing as we have the river as a natural bulwark here.”

“Humans can still make it across,” Shepard countered.

“Yes, but we’ll place snipers here and here in the higher area, to pick them off as they cross.”

“I concur. Garrus would be perfect for this, we’ll reassign positions later. Do you have a sniper on your team?”

“I do, so we’re good on the western front.”

“We need to get some recon on their defensive capabilities before deciding from which side to attack.”

“Shepard, there is only one way that would work with our two teams, and that’s the eastern approach. It’s landed, and you couldn’t make the journey without turians. You only have one human on your team, I have 5. Not nearly enough for a head on assault on their position, and splitting our forces is a very risky move.”

“Fuck. And they know this. We have to try and snipe as many as we can before charging straight into or sneaking around whatever trap they’ve set up on the east side.”

“While we can see their camp from our western plateau, our rifles can’t shoot that far. Not even sniper rifles.”

“At least we have eyes on them from west side.” Shepard tapped on the map.

“We must go east to get close, but when we get to whatever bunker or fortress they’ve set up, we still have to get in.”

Shepard cast a sideways glance at Celsus and brushed her fingers on the collar.

“Three biotic maneuvers, remember? I think I can blast through a flimsy blockade easily enough.”

“Riiight, you’re biotic. Almost forgot.”

“Mhm.. thanks.”

“No, I mean, you’re one of us grunts.”

“I feel so honored.”

“Fuck you,” he smiled, and they both chuckled.

“So, recon first, then we agree on how to proceed?” Celsus grinned.

“Yes. Let’s get some grub in our squads, then-..”

 

“Shepard! Shepard!”

She knew that voice, and dreaded the message. Strabo came running up the path and stopped in front of them, out of breath.

“I sent out Aius and Garrus to watch the camp ground. Garrus was stationed to the east, but when I went to check on him, he wasn’t there. Celsus’ guy says Garrus saw something and wanted to scout further ahead. He went on alone. He’s not responding on his omni-tool either.”

“Oh fuck, no!” Shepard groaned. That stupid turian would ruin her day less than four hours into the exam.

“Relax, Shepard, we know he’s not dead yet, the onmi-tool counter would have pinged him deceased.”

“Celsus, this is personal,” Shepard said and touched her collar. “I need to find that moron before he brings this whole thing crashing down around me.”

Celsus was one of the few people on the station that knew of her history with Vyrnnus from her own lips, and he quickly caught on.

“Go get your moron, I got a handle of things here. Just don’t get killed too, okay?”

“Thanks. Strabo, you’re to take over for me if I fall. Find Mevia and bring her here. I’m going to need her sharp eyes for this.”

“Right away, Shepard,” Strabo said and ran to find the scout.

Celsus lowered his voice. “So if Vakarian gets himself killed..”

“I’m screwed,” she said with fervor. “You know, the first one killed on my team,” she added in case anyone listened.

“I understand.” Celsus patted her shoulder. “You’ll get him.”

 

Garrus moved quietly through the underbrush as he moved towards his goal. His rifle scope was the standard Conatix issue, and not as good as the one he had at home, and the glimpse of metal he’d seen in that tree wasn’t enough to confirm his suspicions. If they’d built a sniper’s nest in the forest line beyond this field, it would be impossible to advance here for the rest of the squads. If only he could take it down, they would be able to traverse the area safely. Right now he really wanted his visor, as it could detect body heat at great distances. Sadly it wasn’t allowed, and he had to utilize his natural skills to detect enemies. A sniper was supposed to work with a spotter, and strictly speaking he was supposed to guard the camp, but he’d given notice, hadn’t he? He didn’t just leave the camp undefended, they knew he was on a mission.

Garrus swallowed and tried to make up a plausible excuse for his sudden trip, but he knew down in his soul why he was here. He wanted to win and be praised as a turian of honor, not one stained by his family’s reputation. And he wanted Shepard to be proud of him. After taking a few more strides, he stood in a clearing of the forest where someone had dug a ditch stretching almost 5 meters, and Garrus froze. The ditch was abandoned, but they couldn’t be far away. If they’d prepared a front line here, he was already in their territory. The knowledge that he was getting in too deep was narrowly trumped by the desperate urge to find his target, and thus have a valid explanation for his absence. He pressed on, and found another trench 100 meters further ahead. Now he was on the end of the forest line, and he could see the sniper’s nest he’d glimpsed earlier in a tree beyond the open field. This trench was probably supposed to be their first defensive outpost, but it was unoccupied. They probably weren’t expecting an attack so soon, he figured, and crawled forward until he could slide into the trench. There he unhooked his sniper rifle and hoisted it to his shoulder, aiming for the tree. To his surprise, wires and ropes coiled around it, unlike anything he’d ever seen before. It would be difficult to spot with the naked eye, but at this range it was clear to see in a scope.

In his peripheral vision there was a movement on the open field in front of him, and four recruits in camouflage threw themselves down and hid from sight.

He’d been discovered.

_T minus 67 hours and 1 minute._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got out a little later than I said it would, but my boss had some team building thing planned on Friday night, which is usually my 'finishing touch'-day of writing. I hate team-building with co-workers, I hate singing awkward birth day songs for people I don't know, and I really dislike lame stand-up comedians when you're not allowed to leave the show to escape the cringe.  
> A whole Friday night down the drain! And I wasn't even drinking, because I have other stuff to do today. Argh!  
> After that little rant, hope you enjoyed the chapter :D
> 
> (might be some slips in my proof reading since I'm a bit stressed today, point it out and I'll fix it.)


	29. Field Exam - Reversals and unintended discoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard acts strangely, and the odds got better and worse.

_T minus 66 hours and 40 minutes_

“Slow down, I can’t spot an enemy ambush at this speed!”

Mevia picked up her pace, and with a few long strides she was beside Shepard.

“Just do your best, I’ll use biotics to defend us if I have to.” Shepard kept checking for tracks on the ground as she ran, and followed the footprints of a lone turian in the wet earth among leaves and sticks. They were on the right path.

“For Garrus? Weren’t you supposed to use that in the breach?”

“Mevia, do as I say!” Shepard heard her own snappish tone, but she was irritated beyond measure. Poor Mevia got the brunt of it.

“Yes, mam!”

Her turian companion stopped questioning and searched the surroundings with narrow eyes. Shepard held back several swear words. Garrus would be in a world of shit when she got a hold of him.

“He can’t have gotten that far, we’re running and he probably had to sneak ahead.”

“Yes, mam.”

Shepard wasn’t sure Mevia was upset or focused. She’d guess the latter. That turian had a mouth like a razor blade, but was equally talented on the field. This was proven by a low exclamation seconds later.

“Look over there! A clearing midst the trees!”

“Guns ready, we’re taking a look.”

Both of them pulled out their sidearms and proceeded more slowly towards the spot Mevia had pointed out.

 

* * *

 

_T minus 66 hours and 35 minutes_

Garrus crawled down to the end of the trench, trying to find some cover against being flanked by multiple opponents when they reached his position. Turians were never much for ducking, but today he had no choice. He’d tried peering over the edge of the trench, but a low buzz from the omni-tool warned him of a near miss, and he knew he was running out of time. Only the occasional rustle in the grass told him of the encroaching enemies. There was little chance of reinforcements reaching him in time, but he could at least let them know where he was, even if his foolish actions would go on his exam record. He opened his omni-tool to the emergency channel.

“This is Garrus Vakarian, I’m trapped in a trench on the open field east of our camp. If anyone can hear me, I could use a little help.”

The rustling got more active and he heard them approaching now from several points. He kept on crawling until he found a minor dugout in a side alley of the trench, with several planks strewn about. There was precious little time to construct something sturdy out of this, and he made a makeshift cover in the hopes of at least taking out one of the attackers. They were very close now, and he heard one of them stand up. The sniper rifle he carried was unfit for close quarters combat, and Garrus put it away and pulled his handgun, preparing to fire.

There was a small thump as the first enemy landed in the trench and stalked forward. Garrus felt oddly calm about his impending ‘death’. Here he sat, huddled behind some flimsy wooden boards, awaiting the inevitable. At least he wouldn’t be the only one to die. The turian body was far to big for the small hideout, and the enemy recruit spotted him immediately.

“He’s over here!” he yelled, before a single shot from Garrus marked him in the head, and the omni-tool pinged with _‘Marcus_ _s_ _on,_ _killed in action. Headshot.’_

“Son of a-..” The fallen recruit quickly left the trench, presumably headed for the extraction area.

The remaining three approached from different angles, and Garrus could heard the heavy footsteps of a turian and a triumphant hum from the bastard. He darted out and made a run for the other side of the outpost. His opponents missed the first few shots they fired after him. Garrus made a point of shielding his head, as the armor they all wore allowed for a few grazes, but not many. The shield only had four bars. He felt the sim-suit give a small sting. One down. He scrambled and threw himself behind a bend in the pit. Another sting. Two down. The turian came after him, smugly vocalizing his oncoming death. Garrus ran another turn, and the humans atop the trench hit him in the back. Three down. Now he was pretty much a dead turian walking. His pursuer rounded the corner after him. Garrus wheeled around to fire, but his foot got caught in a piece of debris, making him tumble and fall. The gun slid harmlessly along the muddy floor.

The turian in front of him flared his mandibles and raised his gun.

 

Suddenly his omni-tool whirred a warning, and his shields flared into full power. The shotgun blast hit him square in the chest, but the shields were back online and he was only registered with _‘Vakarian,_ _minor injury_ _.’_ What was happening?

“Yaaaarrrrggh!”

A spirit of fury descended on the enemy turian from above and knocked him to the ground, before pulling out a knife and slashing across his throat. _Shepard is here._ Garrus slumped with relief.

‘ _Cassius, killed in action. Slit throat.’_

The humans pointed their rifles at her and she threw her arm out, hitting both of them with a biotic charge. They flew apart and landed heavily on the field. Shepard hoisted herself up from the trench and emptied her clip in the nearest enemy.

“ _Svensdottir, killed in action, gun shot wounds.”_

The last human had found her gun and aimed at Shepard, when a single shot rang out and another message flashed across the screen.

‘ _Ueda, killed in action, headshot.’_

“Thanks, Mevia. Fucking fine shot.”

“My pleasure, Shepard.”

Garrus shrunk in his plates. He’d been saved, now came the reckoning.

Shepard and Mevia quickly jumped down into cover, as the turian she’d ‘killed’ cast one last angry glare at her and disappeared towards the extraction site.

“Garrus Vakarian, you little shit! You were supposed to guard the camp, not run off on some suicide mission!”

“I know, Shepard, I’m sorry,” he began, but she wasn’t in the mood for apologies.

“You better have a fucking good explanation for leaving your post, and I would have it now, unless you want to be a casualty of friendly fire!”

“Uhm, I, ah..” he tried, but couldn’t find his tongue. Instead he pulled out his sniper rifle and pushed it into her hands while pointing to the strange thing in the tree.

She gave him a suspicious glance and raised the rifle to her shoulder. Both of them carefully peeked over the edge and Shepard swept the scope over the green landscape, finally finding the thing he was pointing at. She followed the wires and cables from the ground up to the lush branches above. When she sank down into the pit again, she was staring at him with a wide eyed maniacal look.

“Can’t even speak, idiot?” she spat. “No excuses, just a glory hungry moron intent on ruining everything?”

Garrus stared at her, hurt and confused. This wasn’t like her, at least, not like the new Shepard. To his further shock, she tackled him to the ground and started pounding the dirt next to his face.

“Perhaps this ‘ _t_ _hud’_ will teach you ‘ _t_ _hud’_ not to disobey orders ‘ _t_ _hud’_ again.”

“Uh, Shepard, calm down,” Mevia said uneasy from the sideline.

Garrus couldn’t fathom any of this, but when he tried to speak, a soft finger was placed on his mouth plates. He looked up and saw Shepard grinning like crazy. She pointed to the tree, tapped her ear and lastly, the omni-tool. It took only two blinks before he understood what she meant. Spirits, it was so obvious. He nodded eagerly. Shepard quickly kissed him on the crest before going at him again.

“You really are the most useless twit on my team. Too bad I can’t shoot you myself!”

She spun her hands around in his direction, and he knew exactly what she wanted. It was like they were dancing.

“’m not ‘n idiot,” he said, trying to sound as if he just had his face smashed in. “..‘twas a minor mistake.”

“If you think you’re seeing any minor action again on this exam, you’re sadly mistaken. You’ll pay for this, Vakarian. Let’s move before reinforcements arrive.”

She turned and winked to Mevia, who had caught on slower than Garrus, but understood the gist of it.

“Vorcha-brain,” she barked at Garrus.

“Fuck you,” he replied sullenly.

“Enough talking, more running,” Shepard snapped and quickly jumped herself out of the trench. A few scattered shots from the other side of the field cast up dirt around her feet.

“Run!”

The three of them cleared the 100 meter distance back to the forest in record time, and Shepard was grinning the entire time.

“We need to get back to camp and discuss how get past that hill,” she said, and the two turians exchanged a look. Why was Shepard telling this when they were overheard?

“Those smug bastard think we can’t fight and uphill battle,” Shepard continued. “We’ll show them. They’re four men down, and we hold the advantage.”

“Shepard?” Mevia asked carefully, not wanting to make any mistakes.

Their squad leader spun around, smiled her insane lopsided grin and gave them two thumbs up. It did little to reassure them.

“Double time, come on,” Shepard ordered and made them run all the way back to camp.

 

* * *

 

Shepard was elated. It was a feeling unlike anything she’d felt before, the absolute certainty that she had her opponent by the balls and the only thing she had to do was squeeze. That little nest in the sky was the enemy specialist, a surveillance expert who’d monitored them since they came to Eden Prime. The background noise on their omni-tools, the echo when they talked to each other, it was all him. The enemy knew their every plan, but she would use their certainty against them like a battering ram. First she needed a few minutes of privacy, though. There was no telling if the specialist could read messages on their tools, and she’d never thought to bring primitive implements like pen and paper, but she could make do. Before they arrived in the camp, she broke of a small tree branch and whittled the end to a sharp point.

“Where’s Nirea? I need our combat engineer. Some flash bangs will help when we attack their position.”

“I’ll find her,” Mevia said and left.

Garrus shifted his weight from one leg to another, and Shepard turned to him and pointed to the sentry posts and the other squad members, making sure he understood that he was to gather them in the center of the camp. He frowned, trying to signal back that they would be defenseless. She raised ten fingers, and he understood that to mean a short meeting.

“There you are,” Celsus said behind her. “And I see you found your wayward turian.”

“I did. He’s on latrine duty for the rest of the exam. Hop to it,” she barked at Garrus, and he disappeared on his mission.

“I have plans for our eastern breach,” Celsus said as she followed him to the map.

“Good. I want Nirea to prepare some flash bangs for entry,” she said as Nirea appeared with Mevia.

“They’ll never see us coming,” Celsus grinned.

“I know,” Shepard smiled broadly.

“You wanted to see me, Shepard,” Nirea said, glancing at Mevia. She knew something was wrong.

“I did. I need you to make some grenades from what we have brought with us to mask our advance.”

While she spoke, she wrote in the dirt on the ground.

“I can do that,” Nirea said, cocking her head to the side with a confused look. “What kind of grenades?”

“Flash bangs,” Shepard said, but on the ground, she’d written ‘ _chaff-grenade, now!’_

“Yeah, sure, I’ll see what I can do,” Nirea replied and was gone the next minute.

Celsus looked on the ground and stared at her. She tapped her omni-tool and put a finger to her lips. His mandibles slackened, but he tried to keep up appearances.

“So, the breach,” he said, sounding a lot more dejected now.

“The eastern side is the only way. I’ll lead a small team around the forest and come up on D14,” she said and pointed to the map. “Complete radio silence and stealthing so they won’t see us. When we’re in position, we’ll attack from the north-east side, and when they’re thrown into confusion, you’ll commence the attack from the front. Not even running up the hills should be a problem then. We already took out four of them.”

“Four? Impressive,” Celsus said with slightly more enthusiasm than earlier.

“I know,” she smiled. “And we’ve only just begun. Ah, here come’s Nirea with the flash bangs.”

“I think this is what you wanted, Shepard. Careful with that one, though,” she said and held out a second grenade. It’s one of a kind, but I’m not sure what it does.”

Right on cue, Garrus appeared with the rest of the two squads in tow.

“What the..” Celsus begun, but Shepard waved him off.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” she said airily and dropped the chaff grenade.

The bang deafened them for several seconds and the glimmering aluminum parts flickered in the air.

“Now listen carefully, I can only say this once. The enemy specialist is a surveillance specialist. They’ve been listening to everything we’ve said since we came here, and they know we’re attacking from the east.”  
There was a murmur of angry voices.

“Except we’re not. Change of plans right now. Celsus will do as first planned and try to dig in at the front of the east gate, while I will lead a smaller team around from the west and attack from the rear.”

Nobody said a word until Danteus, a turian on Celsus’ team stepped forward.

“That means crossing the river.”

“It does. I’m going to need four volunteers. Not you, Garrus and Mevia, I have other plans for you, and not Strabo, he needs to support Celsus, but anyone else is welcome.”

“Crossing the river,” Danteus repeated. “You know turians can’t swim, right?”

“Yes, and I’ll get you guys across, even if I have to swim you there myself. I need turians to step up for this, because if all the humans disappear from the front, the ruse might not work. Everyone knows turians don’t swim, that’s why they won’t see us coming.”

“You’re nuts, you know that,” Danteus sighed. “I’ll go. Seems like the only way to win now.”

“Me too,” Aius said.

“Fuck it. I’ll come,” Metilius added, the last turian on Celsus team.

“You might need me to find the weak spot on the door before trying to destroy it,” Nirea shrugged.

“All right, that’s our infiltration team. Remember, not a word, these things are voice activated. Only hand signals, like you’ve learned in class.”

“You’re forgetting one thing,” Celsus said, brushing his talons against his crest. “You’re flying blind. If you run into the enemy when on different sides of the river, you can’t warn each other.”

“Yes we can.” Shepard flashed a toothy smile and turned to Garrus and Mevia. “The whole station knows my squad has been ‘squabbling’ the last weeks, and earlier I pretended to beat up Garrus for insubordination. We’ll use that.”

“Huh?” Mevia looked dumbfounded.

“You two will be spotting for us from our side of the river, and if you see an enemy approaching, Garrus will go on a rant about that fucking Shepard and send over the open channel.”

There was low snickering among the squads.

“Whenever we hear that, we’ll know the enemy is near and we need to take cover. The rest of the front team are allowed to tell him to keep it down, but the code word for coast clear is when Mevia says the words ‘shut up.’”

“What if we need to give you instructions on how to move,” Mevia asked.

“I think I can handle that,” Garrus interjected. “That fucking Shepard, always thinks she knows best, she goes left when we should go right, that sort of thing.”

“Precisely!” Shepard beamed at him.

“Only about 4 more minutes left of the chaff,” Nirea said.

“Right. We’ll use that system and keep it simple. I’ll signal two thumbs up when we’re ready to attack. Mevia will then leave the lookout, go to Celsus’ position and join the vanguard. Garrus, when you see us entering the camp, you know we’re about to blow the doors in 5 minutes time. Haul ass back to that surveillance nest and put a bullet in the specialist’s head. We don’t need him raining fire from atop that tree.”

“Affirmative.”

“Whenever we talk when the chaff clears, we’re still discussing our trip to surround them from the east, okay? Can’t let them know we’re on to them. And no killing the enemy until we’re inside their camp, west team. The death-alerts from our omni-tools would give us away.”

“Yes, Shepard.”

“Good. We’ll eat, have a quick rest and Celsus team will start trying to claw their way into the finished trenches to the east. The rest of us are going swimming.”

Her turian volunteers shuddered.

“We only have one shot at getting it right, I only have one more biotic attack left, so let’s make this one count.”

The rest of the team cast Garrus a sideways glance, and his neck turned deep blue.

“A small price to pay for victory,” Shepard said, defusing their resentment with a shrug. “We know their plan now, and we would have walked right into a trap without our little turian spy here.”

To Garrus surprise, the others lightened up, some of them even gave him a cordial slap on the cowl.

“Everyone is clear to their purpose? Remember, we have to keep it very simple, keep talking about our attack plan to the eastern entrance, and how my team is going silent and skirting around the forest to attack from the north east side of the entrance. Oh, and Danteus, find some rope, we’re going to need it, both to cross the river and scale the encampment.”

“On it.” Danteus left at once.

“It’s clearing up now,” Nirea warned.

“So that’s why we’re taking a small break before making that long trek,” Shepard said and made a cutting movement against her throat. No more talking about the real plan. “Those trenches were probably dug by some students from earlier exams, and we need to take them before we can advance.”

Celsus had recovered from the blow of being under surveillance, and looked very determined.

“Don’t worry, we’ll cast them out like naughty fledglings,” he hissed. “They’ll regret having been drawn against our teams.”

“In for a big fight,” Argyle grinned. “I can’t wait.”

 

* * *

 

_T minus 63 hours and 14 minutes_

Shepard and her small infiltration team made their way down to the riverside undetected by the enemy. Their hand signaling worked really well, even when she was the only with five fingers. Mevia and Garrus were on the overlook, and she had no doubt that between the two of them, very little would escape their notice. The river had a seemingly slow current, but the surface could belie the power below, and she knew she’d have to go first. All around them large chunks of rocks were scattered, and she briefly wondered if they’d been carried there by a glacier, like on earth. Whatever had brought them here, they provided excellent cover, and hopefully, the two on top would spot enemies thinking the same. The plan was to swim across with a rope and tie it to a submerged rock on the opposite side, so the turians could have some assistance when crossing, while simultaneously hiding the rope beneath the surface.

She darted from rock to rock down to the riverbank, and put her hand in the water. Thankfully it was not too cold, but it wasn’t warm either. No doubt the turians would have complained vociferously, if they were allowed their voices.

Shepard signaled them to hold and hide, cast one last scouring look over the river, and waded in.

The weight of her uniform and the rope around her shoulders when wet was heavier than she expected. She searched around the riverside for a rock that was halfway submerged. There were many rocks available, but they had to correspond with a similar rock on the other side. After finding a good match, she dived down and tied the rope around it underwater. It was shallow enough to allow followers to hold on while crossing and deep enough not to be seen from a distance. Now completely soaked, she started swimming across the river. The current floated her further down than she anticipated, and she was glad her turians would have the rope to help them later. The riverbank where she’d drifted was too far downstream from where she was supposed to anchor the rope, and she grabbed some tufts of grass to pull herself up.

“That fucking Shepard, thinks she’s so smart. Never knew when to keep her head down.” Garrus voice rang out on their com-system.

She immediately lowered herself back into the water and put the rope under her feet to keep it submerged.

“I mean, yeah, she can to some things, but she’s way overrated. Never really knew when to step down or _duck_.”

The implication was obvious, and Shepard drew her breath and ducked under water. She could hold her breath for about three and a half minute when they’d practiced in class, but this time she was a little out of breath from swimming. With any luck, it was just a passing sentry. Shepard cleared her mind and tried thinking about a slow swimming salmon, hiding like her under the river bank. For three minutes and 4 seconds she managed to stay under, but by then her lungs were burning. She surfaced under the overhang and tried to breathe silently.

Garrus was still going strong. “Humans in general are stupid, you know.”

“Will you shut up,” Mevia barked.

Thank the gods for that, Shepard thought before crawling up the bank. She saw no sign of the enemy, but trusted Garrus and Mevia to have the oversight on that part. Flitting from rock to rock, she made her way back up to the designated boulder on this side of the river. It was standing halfway into the water, surrounded by other large stones. The mere thought of crossing the river in full gear several more times was not tempting, and she began stripping away anything but essentials. Gun down, jacket down, boots off, rifle down. She kept the long sleeve shirt and pants, hiding the rest under some rubble. No need to flash those scars, and if she was going to swim with a turian clinging to her back, there might be some chafing on bare skin.

Shepard smiled to herself. The chafing happened on occasion, as she could personally attest. The river was still too cold to be truly comfortable, and she winced when wading back into the water. Another dive to fasten the rope, and they were good to go. The return trip was much easier now that she was freed of guns, rope and clothes, but when she climbed up on the rocks, she rethought the idea of leaving the boots. These things were sharp. The four turians peeked out from behind their boulders, and she pointed at Danteus first. He’d been the first one to volunteer, he should get the honor of crossing as the first turian. Apparently, the honor was lost on him, and he merely stared wide eyed at her like she’d picked him for execution. Waving her hand impatiently, she finally got him to move from his hideout. They needed to be quick, she doubted a turian would react well to being ducked underwater to hide. Danteus followed her reluctantly into the water, looking extremely uncomfortable. When they got so far in that his footing disappeared, he almost cried out and pretty much jumped on her back, refusing to let go.

Shepard repeated a long line of swear words in her head, but at least she could make use of the rope to pull them over to the other side. Next time she would listen more carefully when someone talked about hydrophobia in turians.

When they arrived at the northern bank, she managed to coax Danteus to let go once he felt solid ground beneath his feet again. He looked rather ashamed, but she gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, and signaled him to take cover.

“You know, I never really understood why that fucking biotic is here in the first place,” Garrus boomed over the radio. Danteus and Shepard ducked down behind the rocks.

“I mean, it must be from far above that someone got that idea, not often those pinheads have good judgment.”

Shepard knew at once what he meant. There were people on an overlook on this side too. Their intervals of checking was infrequent, as Squad Nine and Twelve was anticipating an attack from the east, not the river. What was more disturbing, was how easily she could read Garrus’ meaning. Danteus heard the same words she did, and he looked to her to see her interpretation. She pointed to the ridge above them and pretended to make binoculars over her eyes. A quiet nod told her he’d understood the message.

“Really, Vakarian, could you pipe down,” Celsus voice was heard on the channel. “You’re making an ass of yourself.”

“We might not hear an enemy attack because of your babbling,” Argyle chimed in.

“Yeah, will you please shut up now?!” Mevia’s exasperated voice added.

Shepard gesticulated to Danteus to take cover further away to avoid too many people gathered on their landing site, and prepared to return to the west shore. Three more trips with hydrophobic turians on her back, how could she ever have imagined this was going to be an easy win?

 

_T minus 62 hours and 41 minutes_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wonders what a chaff-grenade is, you can't have been playing enough Metal Gear Solid :D  
> It's a grenade with aluminum particles that distorts electrical equipment nearby. (or something like that.)  
> It's time Garrus had an opportunity to shine, and next chapter we'll see the end (?) of the exam from his point of view, reacting to Shepard's treatment of him and other 'incidents' in that trench :D Moahahha!  
> And I totally do not have an 'Allo 'Allo -reference in there..


	30. The theories of Napoleon Bonaparte.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus has some difficult choices to make in the last inning of the game, and also decides to plunge headlong into the intricacies of flirting. Is he finally overextending his long reach?

_T minus 62 hours and 25 minutes_

From the overlook, the two turians perched under a camo tarp could see the entire valley below. There was no sign of an ambush on this side of their encampment, likely because the enemy was preparing for a head on assault on the east side. There was one lone sniper on a lookout on a mountain ledge, but he seemed to be bored with his posting, continuously looking eastward to where the action would take place, or making the occasional sweep with his scope over the gully.

Shepard and her team would have to take him out before the final charge, but Garrus wasn’t too worried. The mountainside was readily climbable, and a two man team should make short work of the guy without too much noise. Mevia’s keen eyes were constantly on the man when not darting around the landscape for any hidden enemies. Her skills was a great asset for the team. The worry he’d felt for almost getting removed from the exam in its first hours was much abated. And then there was the crest nuzzle. He’d heard other humans call pressing one’s lips against one another a kiss. Garrus aimed his rifle down to the river, where Shepard was returning for a second turian. It had felt like a burn. His adrenaline had been up, under threat of ‘death’, and he got floored by a female, the one he desired with painful clarity, and when she’d placed her warm soft lips on his crest, it burned him. He was eternally thankful for the codpiece sewn into the crotch of his Conatix uniform. It’s presence had prevented him from exposing himself in a very unfortunate way.

Shepard was almost across with Aius on her back, and Garrus felt a small twinge of envy. No doubt the little jerk would tell everyone about how soft Shepard’s body felt when she was out of earshot. _But she never kissed you_ , a gleeful part of Garrus sang in his head. He searched the environment again, but there was no other enemies to be seen, beside the sniper. The worst case scenario would be if the infiltration team was caught mid stream with both Shepard and a turian. A turian being forced to submerge him- or herself would likely go into a panic, revealing their vulnerable position to the enemy. Garrus wondered if Mevia or he would ever dare tell Shepard that the lone sentry he’d told her to duck for had relieved herself in the river above her, before heading back to the enemy camp. Probably not.

Beside him Mevia tensed, and Garrus readjusted his aim to the ledge. The guy was now doing push-ups to keep himself busy. No need to warn Shepard yet. He looked down again, and saw Aius crouch behind a rock formation while Shepard tried to catch a moment’s rest. Two more trips before they started to advance. The anticipation stirred in his chest, and he wanted to vocalize a challenge to the world; that they were coming and would rain destruction and fire on their enemies. And if they won, well.. Perhaps there would be a reward? Not that he believed he’d ever get another kiss, but still.. He said a silent prayer to the spirits, asking for strength in the coming hours.

Two half drownings later, and Shepard was laying flat on her back, hidden in the reeds that grew along the riverbank. Through his scope he’d seen she was exhausted, and the three turians on the western approach had pretty much hauled her and Nirea over the river after Shepard had loosened the rope for the final turn. A talon jabbed his side, and he saw the sniper carelessly sweep the river again.

“Did you know that Shepard is really lazy?” he broadcast to the world in general. “I mean, whenever her superiors are looking for her, she’s always laying in some fool’s bed, trying to avoid a scolding.”

The river-team was already in hiding, but needed to remain there for now.

“Vakarian, this rumor-mongering will go on your record,” Celsus barked over the comms.

Mevia had problems keeping herself serious, and pointed at Shepard in the grass, then Garrus, and made a slashing movement over her throat. He grinned back at her. He certainly hoped she would be incensed enough to take him on in a personal lesson when they got back.

“It’s not a rumor, everyone knows it’s true,” he said in a sulky voice.

Mevia rubbed her crest with a horrified expression, and hummed a warning; ‘you’re one dead turian’. Out loud she said; “Will you just shut up, shut up, shut up?! I’m sick and tired of all this.”

“Whatever..”

 

_T minus 61 hours and 41 minutes_

Down in the valley, Shepard and her team began moving towards the cliffs under the mini fortress. Under a small patch of trees near the base of the cliff there was enough cover to hide from the outlook above, but Garrus could still see them between the trunks and branches. Shepard was signaling to Aius and Metilius to climb the precipice on the left to get to the sniper, while she, Nirea and Danteus made their way to the encampment on the right. Mevia scratched a message in the dirt in front of Garrus. ‘Soon.’ The plan was that she’d leave when Shepard gave the signal, but he’d remain in case they needed a last minute warning. As soon as they breached the camp, he’d have to hightail it to Celsus’ position and leave Shepard undefended from the rear. Four hours ago that seemed like a good plan, now his plates itched by the thought of leaving Shepard open like that, but orders were orders. Breaking them twice in the same exam would spell disaster.

Aius and Metilius split from the main group and headed for the climb. Shepard stepped out between the trees for a few seconds, gave them two thumbs up and vanished from sight. Now they were on the prowl. Beside him, Mevia couldn’t suppress a delighted hum and she slapped him on the cowl as she crawled away. This was it. Time to see if they could make the haphazard plan work.

Fifteen minutes later, the trio was still unseen, but Garrus could see Aius and Metilius make good time up the hill while making sure not to make noise. The minutes snailed by before Garrus could spot Shepard’s team again. They were huddled under a small ridge about ten meters away from the encampment’s west wall. Unless you knew to look for them, they were completely hidden. Garrus noticed they were looking at their omni-tools, and he realized they were watching for the death alert of the sniper. If it came too soon, they would be made on the wrong side of the wall, if it came to late, they would be sitting ducks while he picked them off. A hell of a gamble, but Shepard seemed to like it like that. She was completely calm and composed.

Garrus turned back to Aius and his companion. They’d switched places, as Metilius was apparently a dab hand with a knife, judging from the way he was flicking it between his talons. They were almost by the ledge, when he saw the unthinkable happen. One of them stepped on loose shale, and some of the pebbles started sliding downhill. Garrus felt his heart jump in his chest. Oh no, spirits, no, this was too soon. The sniper picked up his rifle and walked forward slowly to peer over the edge. Aius and Metilius clambered to hide under the jutting ledge, but was only a matter of time now that more stones were beginning to move. Garrus shot a look at Shepard's’ team, unaware of the danger and now tying the rope to scale the wall. His brain started to work very fast. If he sounded a warning, they would not get over the wall in time. The chasm between him and the other sniper was impossibly long with this rifle, at least with a normal shot. He ripped out the anemometer and saw the wind meter per second was next to nothing. Some fewer summations to make. He shored up the rifle on a small sandbag, numerous calculations firing in his head, distance, drift, bullet drop, elevation, risk of failure, possibility of success, and his brain almost seized with all the barrage of information he forced it to work through. Luckily for him, he’d been doing mental calculations and calibrations as a means to stay focused around Shepard for weeks now, so the computations went rather fast, and when the right angle and trajectory formed in his head, he knew he had a reasonable chance of hitting the target. The problem was, to break the shield and kill him, it needed to be a head shot, and that might be too much to ask at this distance. However, if he only wounded the man, perhaps it would give Aius and Metilius the chance to kill him.

‘ _Metilius, killed in action, headshot.’_

The sniper had spotted them under the cliff, and it was only a matter of time before he revealed Aius’ position over the radio, jeopardizing the entire operation. The main camp would start looking for intruders before Shepard and her team was over the wall. What would Shepard do in his situation!? _She would take the shot_ , a dead certain voice said in his head. That was enough for Garrus. He took careful aim at the sniper. The recruit was neglecting to call in the ambush over radio in pursuit of kill points on the exam. While he tried to get a fix on Aius, who was now scrambling in loose shale to avoid getting hit, Garrus re-positioned the small sandbag one centimeter, readjusted the angle of the rifle and slowly drew his breath.

A lone shot rang out across the gorge, and two seconds later the message flashed in the omni-display:

“ _Warski, killed in action, headshot.”_

A headshot! A fucking headshot, at that distance with this ancient rifle! Spirits be praised, Shepard would have to kiss him now. _Shepard!_ He adjusted his aim and saw Nirea’s last foot being hauled over the wall. They were in! The breach was about to happen! He made the rifle disassemble and attached it to his back. There would be time to boast later, right now he needed to run. Another enemy needed a bullet in the head, and they needed to make a diversion for Shepard immediately.

 

_T minus 61 hours and 2 minutes_

Garrus ran as fast as his long feet could propel him. The enemy would be alerted to the death of their sniper, and unless Celsus’ breach team made some noise, they would find Shepard too soon. The thought of her in danger made him sprint faster, vaulting over the trench in the forest and continuing straight into the open field. There was scattered warning shouts as both friends and foes became aware of his mad dash. The enemy lines opened fire, only to be forced back into cover by covering fire from his team. With a last ditch effort, he lunged himself into the trench, rolling down the sloping wall, and crashing with the planks on the opposite side. Celsus came crouching over to his position, a thunder cloud in his gullet.

“What’s the meaning of this,” he hissed. ‘You were to be on _‘latrine duty.’_ ”

“Already taken care of shit on my end,” Garrus replied. “We need to make some noise over here, and I want to be part of it.” He hummed his urgency. It was unclear whether they could pick up on that, but they might, and Celsus wasn’t catching on as fast as Shepard could.

“Now? We haven’t heard anything from Shepard’s team yet. They might not be in position.”

“Or they might never be,” Garrus said with an imploring thrum. “We should get the glory before that crazy human can steal it.”

Finally Celsus was seeing some sense. “Perhaps we should. We’re turians, after all. All right, guys, prepare to advance. Cover fire!”

Garrus sighed with relief, then distended his sniper rifle and started scanning the nest again from behind the pile of planks. Whomever was up there was well concealed, but Garrus knew he would be forced to look over the rim to relay the position of Celsus’ advance team to the defenders. He heard Argyle and Castor laugh as they zigged and zagged from cover to cover, and knew that Mevia was out there somewhere, hidden under her camouflage net. After hours of waiting, the rest of Celsus team was rearing to go, but only Baptiste was allowed to advance with Shepard’s turians. The rest were restricted to suppressing fire, and Garrus hoped this would be enough distraction for Shepard to pull the attention away from the west side. Everything was up in the air now, and unless the gate was blown, they were fucked.

Strabo appeared behind him. “See anyone,” he said, and it could have been in reference to all enemies on the defensive line.

“Not yet, but I will,” Garrus replied laconically.

“Spirits, we should have waited for Shepard,” Strabo said in a strained voice. “We’ll get slaughtered like this.”

“Or they would have been,” Garrus replied quietly.

“Careful,” Strabo warned.

“Gotcha.” Garrus’ right mandible was pressed against the rifle stock, but his left flared wide. He saw the bastard. The surveillance expert was a turian, and a female at that. It looked like… that female that was always sitting at Shepard’s table? Was she a surveillance expert? Shepard never mentioned that.

Garrus slowly drew his breath, took aim and squeezed.

‘ _Arista Nerva, killed in action, headshot.’_

“That’s Shepard’s friend,” Strabo gaped.

“Now deceased,” Garrus trilled happily. “My condolences, Shepard.”

 

In that same moment, a huge biotic surge rammed the front gate from the inside, blasting it apart with tremendous force and leaving the entrance wide open. The enemy was thrown into disarray, not knowing if whether to defend the front or the rear.

“She did it!” Celsus shouted.

“That I did,” a familiar voice said over the comms. “A little help up here, please?”

“Hell yes,” Argyle shouted, “Once more into the Fray, Into the last good fight I’ll ever know, live and die on this day, live and die on this day!” He jumped out of cover and made a charge for the entrance, closely followed by a host of his fellow students who were now breaking ranks and fanned out behind him, all eager for victory and glory. Argyle had somehow procured an additional rifle, and his large frame allowed him to dual wield them, spitting fire and death as he ran.

“Argyle, you damn madman, that’s suicide,” Strabo yelled after him.

‘ _Nobilior, killed in action, gun shot wound.’_

‘ _Memor, killed in action, gun shot wound.’_

‘ _Trupo, killed in action, gun shot wound.’_

“Raaargh!” Argyle’s reckless frontal assault drew all the incoming fire from the enemy before they finally composed enough to aim and bring him down.

‘ _Argyle, killed in action, gun shot wound_ _s_ _.’_

The enemy had focused on the raving Argyle and allowed themselves to be overrun by the rest. Their position was swamped and became embroiled in a vicious hand to hand struggle.

Celsus glanced at Strabo. “What the hell, let’s just kill them all,” he sneered and vaulted out of the trench.

“Where are you, Shepard?” Strabo called out and ran after Celsus.

“Shepard? Answer!” Garrus entreated over the comms.

‘ _Richardson, killed in action, strangulation.’_

“That was my guy, you bastards!” Celsus howled and fired his rifle as he ran.

‘ _Demidov, killed in action, gun shot wound.’_

‘ _Sanchez, killed in action, broken neck.’_

“Well done, Sara!” Celsus said as he ran by.

‘ _Vindex, killed in action, headshot.’_

“Thanks, Mevia.” Castor fell back into cover and gave suppressing fire again.

“No problem. Where’s Shepard?”

“Don’t know.”

‘ _Sarissa_ _, killed in action, died from injuries sustained.’_

“We need help,” Nirea called over the comms, “we’re pinned down inside!”

“Coming!” Strabo made a beeline for the entrance and shot an enemy in the back who was trying to headlock Baptiste.

‘ _Alvarenga, killed in action, gun shot wound.’_

“Fuck, he was a lot stronger than he looked,” Baptiste groaned as his opponent was forced to release him and leave the fight.

Strabo burst inside the compound, and saw Danteus pull an injured Nirea away from the two on one fight in the courtyard. Shepard was holding her own while simultaneously trying to shield her injured engineer. That was two, but he counted one missing, where? Where?! Strabo saw the shadow above and leaped in front of Shepard.

‘ _Calan, killed in action, shotgun blast.”_

“No!” Shepard screamed and kicked down her smallest opponent, finally wresting her gun arm free and firing between his eyes.

“ _Hamilton, killed in action, headshot.’_

She whirled around and aimed for the turian on the upper railing, but the gun clicked. She was out of ammo, and instead tossed the gun at the turian, hitting him square in the face.

The second opponent grabbed her from behind and held her, making her wide open to retaliatory fire.

Above, she heard the reload of a ten gauge and saw the turian raise the shotgun again.

A single shot rang out beyond the gates.

‘ _Ulpius, killed in action, headshot.’_

“Hah, I got one, at least.” Aius had finally arrived, dirty, limping and out of breath. “You were having all the fun without me.”

“Did she make it?” Garrus’ worried voice chimed over the comms.

Shepard grabbed the assailant and did a shoulder throw. The recruit landed flat on her back, and Celsus stepped through the gates, aiming at the downed opponent’s heart.

“Yes she did.” He fired his last rounds. Shortly after, their omni-tools gave a long buzzing sound.

‘ _Romero, killed in action, gun shot wounds.’_

 

_Bleep._

‘ _Enemy opposition wiped out. T_ _minus 60 hours and 06 minutes.’_

_Bleep._

‘ _Move to extraction point and await further instructions.’_

 

Then the screen went blank.

 

“Holy fuck, we did it in less than twelve hours,” Baptiste said wide eyes. “We’ve barely been gone.”

“Doesn’t feel like that,” Shepard said with a tired grin. “I’ve nearly been drowned four times, shot at and fell on my face when I climbed the wall here.” She tapped the side of her chin where a large bruise was already showing, and wiped away a trickle of blood from her nose.

“Nobody can tell the difference,” Strabo quipped.

“Ah, there you are,” Shepard said and punched him in the chest plate. “What the hell were you thinking? Are all turians this willing to die?”

“I wasn’t doing it for fun, turians are trained to protect their commanding officers at the cost of their own lives,” Strabo said slightly miffed.

Shepard pondered that while staring at him through narrow eyes. “I concede the point, but still.”

Another punch, more gentle this time. “Don’t get killed next time, you hear?”

“What about me?” Argyle said grinning.

“What? Who’re you? Ah well, I can always get another human.”

“Heeeyy!” Argyle clutched his heart in fake outrage, and they all chuckled. Twelve hours of tension was beginning to seep from their bodies, and everyone started gathering up their equipment, getting ready to march back.

Garrus arrived on the scene in time to see Shepard wobble and sink down to the ground. Quick as the wind, he was by her side and holding her up.

“Hi Shepard. Not feeling too good? We won, didn’t we?”

“I feel great, I just.. To create this kind of blast I have to focus a lot harder than I usually do. This isn’t my forte.”

“No, it’s shields, right?” Garrus remembered his shield status resetting second before getting shot.

“That, and a few other tricks, yeah. The massive power surges is not my thing, too draining for me. Kaidan would have made fun of me.”

“Kaidan?”

“A guy I knew from my first year here. He’s probably in the military now.”

Shepard winced and leaned on him again. Garrus couldn’t help smirk in Aius’ direction, and Aius huffed and looked away.

“I got your back, Shepard. Let’s go.” Garrus knew he was going to enjoy the long march back if he could spend it with his leader clinging to his arm.

 

The trip to the extraction point was filled with chatter and laughter from the victorious contestants, but even the losing squad members was drawn into the fold and congratulated with giving a good fight. Celsus made a point of being professional to the members of squad Nine and Twelve whom had joined them for the return, and his and hers team followed suit. Garrus noted that Shepard herself didn’t say much, but always smiled and joked when addressed.

“Still tired?”

“Like a dead dog, yeah. Don’t worry about it, I’ll get better once I’ve had something to eat.”

Garrus looked around for their medic. “Hey Castor, have an emergency levo bar?”

“Yeah, looking to kill yourself again?”

“Haha, it’s for Shepard.”

“Wait a sec.. Catch!”

A single stamina bar sailed through the air, and Garrus caught it easily.

“Here you go,” he smiled.

“Gods, I didn’t think of that. You’re a life saver.”

More than you know, Garrus reflected. He really wanted to tell her about the shot, but he wanted to do it somewhere in private, for reasons of his own.

“Vakarian, I’m surprised you made it this far,” the turian named Vindex grinned as he passed them. Apparently he was the leader of Twelve. “We were taking bets on how long you’d live after that first excursion.”

“I’m just full of surprises,” Garrus answered, but a seed of contention was sown in his mind. He had disobeyed orders, several times. The first being perhaps the most egregious, but deciding on his own that he would fire across the ravine against explicit orders, that was a close second. Shepard might not disapprove, but for a turian superior, a subordinate that did not follow an order, even a bad one, was a bad subordinate. And she didn’t grade them on this exam. That honor fell to captain Corinthus, one of the staunchest defenders of rules you could think of. Besides his father, of course. Garrus sunk into a silent gloom and didn't’ see Shepard’s worried glance at him.

 

At the extraction site, Garrus let Shepard disappear into the small camp. All the other recruits were there and the noise made his head buzz. She greeted Arista Nerva with a _‘You traitor,’_ and a big hug. Apparently there was no ill will against her friend working for the enemy in the field. Garrus used the moment to slip away. He walked up to a more secluded cliff and sat down. During the exam, things had seemed so simple. Live or die, succeed or fail. Now they were going back to the real world to be judged for those actions, and he dreaded the result. Up here there was line of sight in all directions, and he would see when the shuttle came for them. There was no hurry to return to camp.

 

After 20 minutes, his solitary reverie was interrupted by Shepard coming up the path.

“There you are. Almost thought you’d done another runner on me.”

The comment reminded him of his reckless behavior, and he looked down. She came up and sat on a rock opposite him, almost close enough for their knees to touch.

“Hey, what’s the matter? Aius told me of how you saved this whole operation with a single shot. You should be proud as hell.”

She smiled gently and placed a warm hand on his knee. Garrus had to stop himself from twitching.

“It’s a turian thing. No matter how things turned out, I disobeyed orders. I won’t get good grades from this.”

“Is that all?” Shepard grinned. “That would depend greatly on how those actions are explained. Leaving your post was risky, yes, but you were showing initiative and cognizance.”

“Big words. Sure you can spell them?” The words escaped him before he could stop them.

Shepard stared at him, then threw her head back and laughed out loud.

“Garrus Vakarian, being snarky with the one person that could save his hide. Bold, Garrus.”

“Sorry, don’t know where that came from.”

“I do. A glimmer of humor somewhere under all that plating. I like it.”

“Just because you do, it won’t mean that Corinthus will. He’ll probably say it wasn’t about skill at all, just coincidences.”

Garrus’ head was sinking down, but Shepard gently caught the slumping movement with two fingers under his chin. She pushed him up and smiled warmly at him.

“I want to tell you a story from earth. Might perk you up a bit.”

“Sure,” he said bewildered.

“Hundreds of years ago there lived a man called Napoleon Bonaparte. Some historians say he’s the greatest tactician that ever lived, others say he was as simple tyrant. Be that as it may, his specialty was to take advantage of the enemy’s weakness, or to allow the enemy to gain an assumed upper hand, only to turn the battle with unorthodox tactics and maneuvers.”

“Okay..”

“When he became an emperor, and new generals was presented to him as men of skill, experience, intelligence and so forth, do you know the one question he asked, according to legend?”

“You know I don’t,” Garrus said with peeked interest.

“Is he lucky?” Shepard mimicked in a nasal voice. “That was the most important thing. If a general was unlucky, no amount of skill could aid him in winning a battle.”

Garrus looked at Shepard like she was loosing her mind.

“You think I’m lucky?”

“Well, you’re lucky for me. Today was a remarkable stroke of luck, mixed with a certain amount of improvisation. And that shot of yours, I’m not saying that there wasn’t an immense amount of training and skill behind that, but a smidgen of luck was involved too. Headshot at first try from that distance? Damn right I think you’re my good look charm.”

“Meaning, you're the greatest tactician that's ever lived, and I'm your general?” Garrus flared his mandibles.

“Yeah yeah, you know what I meant, Vakarian.” Shepard tapped him on the thigh with one of her strange fingers.

“You're pure luck to have on a team, at least to me. Don’t worry so much, I’ll inform the captain of your role in our team’s victory, in no uncertain terms.”

“Thank you.”

Garrus watched her get ready to leave. When he recollected this moment years later, he couldn’t understand what had given him the courage to speak his next words.

“You kissed me on the crest. In the trench? It was distracting.”

Shepard gave him a confused look, then an embarrassed laugh.

“I guess I did. Sorry, it was in the heat of the moment. I won’t do it again.”

He placed a three fingered hand atop hers. “Not what I meant.”

Shepard frowned. “Huh?”

Garrus decided to test his luck. He went all in and purred gently at her. Shepard broke into an understanding smile.

“Are you.. purring at your squad leader, you cheeky devil?"

“So what if I am?” he retorted smugly.

Shepard laughed heartily and patted his hand tenderly. “You're a little young for me, Garrus. Maybe in a few years.”

“So there is a chance? Good to know,” he smiled back. Garrus was inclined to believe her about his luck now.

“Only if I'm available, impertinent one.”

“And you're not now?” He knew she wasn’t, but wanted to see if she’d lie. Instead, she deflected the question.

“None of your business, meddlesome turian.” The rebuke was jesting. She wasn’t upset, but he knew she would veer around further inquiries if pressed.

Garrus tried to say something clever in response, but couldn't think of a single thing. Shepard really liked having him around, despite all his mistakes, and that knowledge made him almost swoon. She stood up, and he jumped awkwardly to his feet after her, almost knocking her over.

“Whoa there, Garrus.”

He was going to apologize when she stood on her toes and planted another kiss on his mandible.

“Thank you for saving the team.”

“Uuhh." More intelligible gibberish escaped his mouth plates, and his neck flushed royal blue.

“That's, uuh.. You're welcome?” he finished lamely.

Shepard nudged him gently with her elbow and walked back to the shuttle site. His mandible already felt like it was on fire. Garrus traced the spot she’d kissed him with his talons, grinning madly. He was sure it was an emotional response and not a physiological one. Nothing in his allergy test had showed levo sensitivity, thank the spirits. A little young, she'd said. Which meant that one day, she might say yes. If his fringe was longer than Chellick's, that would probably help. Garrus strutted after her with a sway in his hips, and tried to remember which nutrients helped with cartilage growth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like national holidays to chill and write. Enjoy an early chapter.  
> On a side note, has anyone else read the essay "How not to write turians?" Can't really say how I feel about that one, except that the author is a wee bit condescending. There's a really easy way to avoid stories with elements you don't like, and that's simply 'not reading them.'  
> I'm not very interested in Alpha-Omega verses, but those who are should write and read those stories to their hearts content.  
> Some of the advice in the essay might have been helpful, if not for added comments like such and such is lazy writing. If someone wants to write a smut-laden story with every graphic warning label available, they will never be as 'tasteful' as you'd like it to be, just skip it and read something else. I have a personal pet peeve with stories who contain a Shepard/character who 'bites her lip/bottom lip.' It jerks me out of the immersion and straight into a Twilight movie. That's my problem. I can stop reading at any time. (And I often do, in such cases.)  
> Same for authors who write turians with a cloaca. (looking at you, essay writer.) Yes, they are a 'bird-based' species, but they are viviparous. All birds have cloacae, none have live births. Only certain species of reptilians have both, to my knowledge. (And now we're in krogan territory.) Again, write what you like, but every writer and reader have likes and dislikes. Giving general advice is one thing, taking the moral high ground is another.  
> I have one more nit pick here. Number 25, chapter 3 in that essay, that marriages needs to be approved should not be written? Well, it states so in canon, namely cdn.wikia for turians, that usually a consensus should be formed between family, friends and superiors as to who a turian should marry. They don't have to conform, of course, but a good turian would.  
> I'm sure there's plenty more to unpack in that essay, (and several good points as well), but that's enough of a rant, let me know what you think. :D


	31. An overpowering aroma of lust and deceit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard has a private celebration in the dark, and Vyrnnus is going on a little trip again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess fair warnings apply, this chapter contains NSFW elements.

**2175 CE – February 20** **th ** **– Transport Vessel –** **21:57 PM**

“I can’t believe we’re going back already.” Arista peered out of the observation window and sighed. “I was hoping for another day at least. Now I have to go back to my project early.”

“You mean your spy-program?” Shepard smiled beside her.

Arista didn’t even hide her pride. “Wrote it myself in my first year. It will hack omni-tools with standard military encryption and can be upgraded. It’s voice activated, making it easy to follow the enemy’s plans.” She gave Shepard a look of miffed scrutiny.

“Unless some human discovers the transmitter with underhanded methods.”

“Hah! Underhanded, my ass. It was my lucky turian who stumbled onto that revelation.”

“Oooh, lucky turian, is he? Want me to tell Decian that?” Arista said with a sardonic smile.

“Gods, please don’t. I’d have to stroke his fringe for hours just to calm him down.”

“But seriously, did you guys notice anything when you landed? We got the transmitter up and running in less than 15 minutes.” Arista flicked through her notes. “Just wish we’d taken more care with the camouflage, but the device still requires a lot of power.”

“There was some background interference, but we thought it came from the com-buoys or from the examination panel keeping track on us. Get rid of that noise, and it’s pretty much undetectable.”

“Shh. I really shouldn’t be discussing this with you, but I need to know what’s wrong if I’m to fix this before end of year trials.”

“Before you’re whisked of to Blackwatch, you mean?” Shepard whispered gleefully.

“Sshhh! I can’t confirm or deny that.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll be nice. So long as you are.”

“Keep your lucky turian, then. I won’t say a peep.”

“Thanks. No words on the other exams?”

“Not one. I thing we’re the first ones finished. Good for you. Bad for me.”

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad. We lost people too. It wasn’t a perfect victory.” Shepard sat back. “I didn’t know our team would run amok after I blew the door. They charged like madmen.” She shook her head. “If one or two on your team had kept their wits, they could have sawed us down with gunfire halfway up the hill.”

“I know. But they too freaked out. The last thing they expected was getting attacked from the rear. Good subterfuge.” Arista wiggled her mandibles in a smile. “Even if it was me you bested.”

“Improvisation and luck.” Shepard nodded towards Garrus, sitting in the middle of a gaggle of turians and regaling them with how he hid their team’s advance by swearing her up and down.

“I thought he would ruin the entire thing, but he probably saved us all.”

“Don’t humans rub their good luck charms?” Arista said innocently.

“Bite me, Arista,” Shepard grinned back. “Better yet, get Emerus to bite _you_ , heard that’s how he likes it.”

“Decian is spreading rumors again. I’ll beat his plates for that.”

“Heh, not too badly, I’m the one who has to comfort him later.”

“No promises.”

Arista and Shepard laughed and went to join the others. Victor or defeated, now they were all back on the same team again.

 

**2175 CE – February** **22** **nd ** **–** **Celebration dinner** **–** **18:00** **PM**

Captain Corinthus held up his arms, quieting the riotous cheering in the mess hall. “And for the first place in the field exam, Squads Two and Four. Completing their mission in less than twelve hours, with minimal losses and a major handicap, this is no less than an outstanding achievement.”

Cheers erupted again as the two teams stood up and took a bow.

“The reward is two days of leave starting tomorrow. Congratulations!”

“Oh yeah!” Aius burst out as they sat down. “I’m not going to do a single thing, only sleep and rest.”

“As if,” Strabo grinned, “I know who just got the new issue of Fornax in the mail.”

“Looks like you will be doing your ‘single’ thing,” Nirea said, tossing a piece of Pulan toast on his fringe.

“Be nice, and I’ll let you join me.” Aius waggled his mandibles seductively at her.

“Stay away from my girlfriend, Uticensis!” Celsus appeared and placed a protective hand on Nirea’s cowl. Aius looked worried until Celsus laughed it away.

“Hey, didn’t mean to sound so stern.”

Aius let out a relieved breath. “Aw, come on! Don’t do that to me. Do it to Nirea. Bet you’re doing her nice in other ways already.”

“Shut up,” Nirea shrieked and started pelting her squad-mate with every piece of toast she could get her talons on to the laughter of the whole assembly.

“Ouch, crazy females, no sense of humor,” Aius yipped as he escaped to another row.

“Great Nirea, what are we going to eat now,” Mevia said, giving her friend a despondent look.

“Plenty of appetizer still,” Strabo said and helpfully handed the plate to her.

“Thank you, handsome.”

Strabo looked very pleased at that, but Shepard got the distinct feeling that Mevia wasn’t as serious as he was. It was, however, none of her business. She had her own plans for the evening which included a certain beige turian getting naked and dirty.

“Dammit, I forgot to return the maintenance card.” Garrus held the offending item in front of him. He’d just found in his pocket. “And I have a vid-call with my father after dinner.”

“Hand it over, I’ll turn it in for you,” Shepard volunteered.

“You sure it won’t be a bother?”

“Nah, it’s fine. Need a little stroll after dinner anyway. Might as well do something useful too.”

“Thanks.” The card flew through the air and she snatched it just as Celsus made a grab for it.

“Nice try, Corinthus, but too slow.”

“I’m saving my strength for later,” he said with a pleased hum.

Nirea’s neck flushed blue, and Mevia’s flanging laugh didn’t help.

“About time our little overachiever got some stress relief,” she said.

“By that measure, you and Strabo should be the most relaxed turians on the station, which you’re not!” Nirea bit back.

“Hah, you should see me in a dry spell,” Mevia grinned.

“Ugh. Rather not.”

 

“Shepard...”

Shepard froze in her seat and tightened her grip around the steel mug to still her right hand from trembling. Vyrnnus waited while she slowly turned to face him.

“Good evening. I suppose some praise is in order. You managed to win, despite the collar. Not bad.”

Shepard couldn’t believe her ears, until..

“Not good either. You lost four recruits. Emerus Victus only lost three. Clearly, more training is needed. I will be back in three days, and I expect you to be rested and ready.”

“Yessir.”

Vyrnnus surveyed the assembled teams with disdain, before he swept out of the mess hall.

“Wow, he really is an ass,” Strabo spat.

“Yeah, I know. At least I get three days free of him.”

“Here comes the food!” Aius was almost ecstatic.

Celsus leaned down to Shepard’s ear. “If you’re planning on having your way with a certain friend of ours, make sure he doesn’t gorge himself too much on foodstuffs. My kind are rather useless when we’re overfed.”

A small snort escaped her, and she tried to conceal it with a cough.

Conatix had spared no expense that evening. Steak, turkey, salads, kheelie, lecra, craticula, anything a starving student could think of was there. Shepard had her moderate fill while her fellow students ate as if their lives depended on it. After 40 minutes, she got up to mingle and tracked down Chellick, who was sitting beside Arista. The racket of the students made it easy to convey her message without discovery.

“Easy on the Rouladen, sweet cheeks. I have plans for you tonight, Decian Chellick.”

The roll almost fell out of his talons and his breathing quickened.

“Tonight?”

“Would you rather have three more rolls?” she teased.

“Can we go now?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea if we’re the first two to leave, but soon.”

“Soon, she says,” he growled. “Cruel..”

Shepard pretended to give him a casual pat on the shoulder, her thumb ghosting his mandible.

“Very soon.”

Arista met her eyes as she left, and the turian knew precisely what she was up to. Shepard wasn’t worried. Arista would never tell, and she was much too busy trying to signal Emerus that he better not be overstuffed, as she had plans of her own.

 

**2175 CE – February** **22** **nd ** **–** **Officer’s Alley** **–** **20** **:** **37** **PM**

“Care tell me what we’re doing here? I was led to believe there would be some serious cross-species liaising happening after dinner.” Chellick gave her a playful prod.

“It will, I only just now remembered I also promised to return this access card,” she said and poked him back.

“I think the light is on in Corinthus’ office. It will only take a minute.”

Shepard ascended the stairs in four huge strides and walked the familiar steps to the captain’s domain. Three knocks, but no answer, and no light under the door. Shepard sighed. He was probably in the officer’s bar, having his own celebrations. Dammit. On her return, she saw that the lights were out in Vyrnnus’ office as well. The commander was placed as far away from the captain as possible in the corridor. The barefaced turian was a bastard, and she had no way of getting back at him. Unless.. unless she did something only she would know? Something that would cheer her up when remembering, during those days Vyrnnus tried to chip away at her spirit. Shepard flipped the access card in her hand. Something fun, if only Decian would agree.

 

“What are we doing in here, Jane?” Chellick peered around skeptically. “This is the commander’s office.”

“So it is. How observant of you.”

“I repeat, what are we doing here.”

“Defying a most heinous turian.”

“Spirits, are we going against orders? Jane, we can’t be in here.”

“Vyrnnus has never ordered me _not_ to go into his office,” Shepard said casually and checked out the room. The office was almost identical to Corinthus’, but Vyrnnus had almost no decorations besides some large holo-maps of different star systems.

“This room seems smaller, somehow.” She tapped on the walls.

“Are we snooping for Vyrnnus’ secrets? Jane, please, we must leave.”

“Not snooping, I merely noticed the room size.” She rapped the wall behind the desk, and it gave a hollow sound.

“Knew it.” Shepard felt around the holo-frame, but no lever, and she turned her attention to the desk. Sure enough, under it was a small crank. One pull, and the door swung open.

“Let’s see what he hides.”

“Spirits, no, this is wrong,” Chellick said, almost shaking after so much blatant rule breaking.

Shepard flicked the light switch in the room and saw very little out of the ordinary. A personal arsenal of rifles and handguns, some body armor hung on the wall and assorted items for weapon maintenance and armor welding. It was nothing but a storage room for Vyrnnus’ private effects, and it wasn’t even locked.

“How boring,” she sighed and closed the door. “The gun cabinet aside, that’s not why we’re here.”

“No? Why are you tempting fate by trying to piss of the commander. I’ve seen what he’s willing to do.”

“Yeah, so have I,” Shepard snapped. “That’s why I need a little rebellion to keep me going.”

“But what if he-..”

“Vyrnnus has left the station for three days, and we’ll never have this opportunity again. I have to give up the card soon and we can’t get in here later.”

“What are we doing here?” he whined.

Shepard stepped closer and wrapped her hands around his waist. “Me.”

His green eyes went impossibly wide. “What? No! No. No?”

“Why not?” she smiled and kneaded his soft hide in the way he loved. “I can’t get back at him in any other way, but knowing that I fucked my boyfriend on his desk will give me a moral boost to deal with him in the days to come.”

A purr was creeping it’s way out of Chellick’s throat, but he tried to resist her. “This is one of your worst plans ever,” he moaned. “So much can go wrong.”

“But the _prize_ ,” she chuckled and ran her tongue down a mandible. “Admit it, Decian, having me on top of this desk would be fun.”

“Absolutely not,” he said feebly.

“Too bad. I would have loved it.” She shamelessly stroked the front of his pants.

Chellick closed his eyes and tried to stop himself from purring while Shepard pressed against him.

“No? The thought of me bending over like this and mounting me does not appeal to you?” Shepard pushed him gently away and leaned over the desk, glancing backward at him.

“No… I have no desire to.. to..” Chellick swallowed the last words, and she smiled at the half strangled denial. One more push, and he would tumble after her. Time to be a little mean.

“So it’s like that, is it? Ah well. I’m sure I can find another turian to satisfy my needs. Emerus has offered once..”

“No!” Chellick had closed in on her and wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Not Emerus. Not Celsus. Only me.”

“Only you,” she said and rubbed her ass against him. There was a significant bulge in his groin area. “Only you, Decian. Please..”

“Spirits, if we’re caught..”

“Then we need to be fast. Can you be fast?” she teased.

“Faster than you’d like,” he growled and carefully shoved her torso back down on the desk.

He was a lot quicker than she’d anticipated, and Shepard suddenly found herself with her undersuit around her knees and a groaning turian behind her. A small plastic rip told her a condom was being rolled on, and then she felt his corkscrew cock press against her folds. She was ready to receive him, as she’d been imagining this moment since they sat down to dinner.

“Need help,” she quipped, but the snide remark soon was replaced by a yelp as Chellick shoved inside with a swift motion. His entire body trembled with lust, but he stopped and gave her a worried look.

“Too fast?”

“Perfect,” she grinned. “More, please.”

“We could be so demoted for this,” he panted as he started to thrust inside her. “Spirits, the look on Corinthus’ face if he found us here.”

Shepard felt his cock expand, as if he was turned on by his own fear of getting caught.

“Hell yes,” she moaned. “Think of the scandal. Decian Chellick and Jane Shepard, deviants of Jump Zero, to stand in front of the entire station while they read up the charges.”

Chellick keened softly and tightened his grip around her waist, thrusting harder. She closed her eyes in bliss, having discovered a new kink in her favorite turian. That discovery coincided with another, the sound of heavy footsteps climbing the stairs. Shepard jerked herself of the desk, pushing Chellick out and looked around desperately for an escape route. There was none. Chellick first looked offended, then after hearing the steps, almost broke into hysterics.

“Spirits, no, no no...”

Her mind now shifting gears, Shepard reached under the desk for the lever, and the gun cabinet swung open again. She forced Chellick inside and pressed herself in after him, closing the hidden door three seconds before the main door whooshed open. It was none other than Vyrnnus.

 

Shepard bent down to peek out of the small air ducts in the hidden wall. Behind her Chellick was trying desperately not to touch anything that could make a noise, and he resolved this by placing his hands on her back in the dark. The commander hung up his Conatix uniform and swapped it for an anonymous light gray suit from a traveler's bag under the coat hanger. Shepard felt immensely relieved. Vyrnnus was just changing clothes before leaving. Chellick’s grasp became firmer as he leaned forward over her shoulder to try and look out the same way she did. Between her legs, she could feel his still erect cock bobbing around, and a feeling of devil may care came over her. Carefully, not to warn him of her intentions, she reached between her legs and gave his cock a little prod. It slid easily back inside her, and she heard Chellick’s shocked gasp.

“Spirits, Jane..”

“He’ll soon be gone,” she whispered back. “Let’s not waste the moment.”

Chellick pressed his throat down on her shoulder and with a start she realized he was trying to prevent his second voice box from giving away their position. Perhaps this wasn’t a good moment after all.

 

“Cursed teenagers,” Vyrnnus growled outside. “Smell them everywhere.”

She closed her eyes in horror. The smell. Oh no..

The commander sat down and clicked his mandibles impatiently. Shepard tried to see what he was looking at, but Chellick had begun to thrust again, agonizingly slow, and she had to bite her knuckles to stop from moaning.

A buzz alerted of an incoming call for Vyrnnus. She shifted her hold on the door frame to keep her and Chellick from falling out, and to better see out of the ducts.

“There you are,” Vyrnnus barked. “I was waiting.”

The barefaced bastard was wearing an earpiece, and Shepard couldn’t hear the other part of the conversation.

“Is it finished?”

In the pause that followed, Shepard heard nothing but Chellick’s strained breath. Vyrnnus however, clamped his mandibles to his jaw.

“How is that possible?! I provided you with the place, the time and the underground passage. How in the name of all cursed titans could you fail?”

An almost inaudible keen escaped Chellick’s mouth plates, and he began thrusting more deeply.

“No I most certainly will not! This is now your problem! You’re the one that failed to kill the old man in the first place!”

Vyrnnus was visibly angry, and Shepard steadied her grip. Now was not the time to make a spectacular entrance. The man on the other end of the line spoke for a length of time. Vyrnnus was unmoved.

“I have tried to help you, again and again, and every time you let him slip from your grasp. This begs the question, are you the right man for the job, Vido..”

The barefaced turian jerked his head as if someone shouted in his ear, and bared all his needle teeth at the unknown speaker.

“Do not forget why we’re here. Our employer is getting tired with your slip-ups. Either clean up this mess, or I’ve been ordered to give you a reminder of what happens when you fail.”

“Hurts,” Chellick whimpered in Shepard’s ear.

“Then fix it,” she whispered back. She had no idea what he was talking about, but she almost missed Vyrnnus’ next comment.

“Business is business. I could have talked him back into the blue, but you acted in haste.”

Somewhere in the dark there was a small snap of a rubber band being torn, and Shepard felt Chellick pull out, remove something and hilt himself inside her once more. He felt larger than she could ever remember, and she had to grit her teeth to avoid becoming very vocal about it.

There was another long pause while the unknown man spoke his mind. Vyrnnus scoffed.

“Those things are hardly comparable, I’m just having a bit of harmless fun. The woman will never find out before I’m gone. It’s your idiocy that threatens the whole operation.”

In the crook of her neck, Chellick was back to his low keening and deep thrusting. Vyrnnus looked bored. He listened to the man on the other end with an expression of indifference. When he at last spoke, it was in a finite tone.

“It is of no matter. I’m to meet with them today to discuss my progress, and you have one month to sort this out. If not, there will be consequences. You’ve been warned.”

Vyrnnus ended the call with a growl and checked his side holster. It was empty. Shepard’s breath hitched. Only seconds between them and disaster, and Chellick was getting close to a disaster of his own, from his rapid movements.

“Where is.. there!” Vyrnnus picked up an old Carnifex from under a pile of datapads. He replaced the gun and moved towards the door. He sniffed the air again, then took a whiff of the Conatix suit he’d just hung on the rack.

She heard him swear;“Fuckingfledglings.” The traveler’s bag was slung over his shoulder and he locked the office as he walked out.

Shepard waited three minutes before announcing it to Chellick.

“I think he’s gone now.”

“It’s too late, too late,” Chellick whined and pressed himself against her in a feverish attempt to fill her as much as her small pussy allowed. Shepard moaned in pleasure.

“Fuck, thatfeels amazing.” She guided his hand down to her clit, and he did as instructed, if more heedlessly than usual. The danger of getting caught and defying the most heinous man she knew, combined with Chellick’s stellar performance gave her a shattering orgasm. Her hands could no longer support them, and she crashed her elbows into the wall, Chellick still clinging to her back.

“Spirits, I should not have done this. You should not have allowed it,” he panted and grasped both hands around her waist. Shepard regained enough of her senses to bend back and kiss him, and Chellick’s self control broke. With his grip he pressed her down while simultaneously pressing his cock up, and Shepard felt something larger press against her folds, before he pushed inside with a squelching sound. For a moment she feared he’d grown simply too big and tensed.

“I know, I know,” Chellick’s soothing voice was in her ear, and he started licking her neck and touching her everywhere he could reach with his hands. She gradually relaxed and started kissing him back. His body began to vibrate at this tacit acceptance, and Shepard smiled in her afterglow. She loved watching Chellick’s face as he came, see the clicking of his mandibles and the loud purrs, and this time he went overboard. The purring was deafening, and he held her so close she thought she might get permanent plate imprints on her back.

When his cock started pulsing and throbbing inside her, Chellick leaned on her neck with a huff.

“Jane, we need to talk.”

“You’re kidding me. The break up talk, now?” Her fingers entwined around his talons.

Chellick snorted. “No. Not that. Something else I forgot to tell you.”

“Can it wait? We should get out of here soon.”

“Uh.. that’s just it. We can’t. Not yet.”

“Can’t? Vyrnnus is gone, and we have escape this place unseen. Can’t have anyone see us hiding in here.”

“Uuuh, no, we really and truly can’t. I’m… locked inside you.”

Shepard slowly reached over to the light switch and flicked it. The sudden flow of light made Chellick’s green eyes narrow into two small slits.

“Explanation now, please,” she said with deceptive calm, having every intention of meting out punishment if she didn’t like his clarification.

“You see, turians have this knot,” he said, carefully wrapping her arms in his embrace to render her inoperative. “And when a male wants to impregnate a female, he pushes inside her and ties with her, ensuring a higher success rate of breeding.”

“Decian…..” Shepard said in a low threatening voice.

“I know, I know. You can’t get pregnant with me, but there were extenuating circumstances here.”

“I’d love to hear them.”

“Well, I, ah, was having sex with my girlfriend on an older and more powerful turian’s territory. My instincts just kicked in and I had to tie with you to ensure my lineage.”

“Are you making this up?”

“Some of it,” he admitted with a smile. “But being in the presence of another turian didn’t help. I want you all to myself, and got a little bit overwrought.”

“So, now we’re tied for.. how long?” she wriggled to test the validity of his words.

“Spirits, please don’t do that. It.. pulls..”

“Sorry.”Shepard regretted moving around. The pain in his voice was unmistakable.

“Not half as sorry as I am. You remember I said it hurt, and you told me to fix it? Well, that was the condom.”

“Oh gods, surely not..?”

“Oh yeah. I removed it. There will be semen leaking everywhere soon.”

“The smell..” she said wistfully.

“The smell,” he confirmed. “We have to see Publius.”

“What?! Why?”

“Can you wash on the inside? We need some sort of neutralizing compound, or you need to be confined in a small room all by yourself until the scent vaporizes.”

“Aw, fuck! It’s my days off!”

“I know.” He hummed in her neck. “I’m sorry.”

“I hate and despise you.”

Shepard gently tugged on a mandible, and he bent down to kiss her deeply, playing with her tongue for a while, then nipped at her neck with a contented smile.

“I hate and despise you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, hinting at new players in the game. One of my personal favorites are alluded to, but not mentioned by name, I'm guessing it won't be hard to figure out now :D  
> The 'employer' will be harder to guess.. (I hope)  
> All the food mentioned in the story is taken from CDN.wiki on turian edible stuff. 
> 
> Oh, and guys, how could you NOT tell me that I'd written Shepherds wrong? Wtf!! It was in the title!! ;)  
> #Shame


	32. Cheater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and Chellick face the music in Publius' office, and Garrus finds himself in perilous circumstances.

**2175 CE – February** **22** **nd ** **–** **Publius’ Office** **–** **22:09** **PM**

“What’s so important it couldn’t wait until morning, recruit Chellick?”

“Issues of a very personal nature, doctor. It couldn’t wait.”

Chellick shifted his weight from one foot to the other several times, and Publius could smell the sex on him. The older turian sighed.

“I see. Well, let’s get it over with. Got an itchy plate? Torn thigh muscle? Hide rash?”

“None of those.” Chellick traipsed over to the window and opened it, bent out and held his arm down. Outside there was some low swearing and a scraping sound as someone was hoisted through the window. Shepard appeared with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about this, doc.” She landed unceremoniously on the floor, and clambered back on her feet.

“Jane Shepard, back again. What have you done this tim-...” Publius got one whiff of her and turned to stare at Chellick.

“What have you done?!”

“It was an accident,” Chellick stuttered.

“Accident? She tripped over your plates and you sprayed everywhere?”

“Uuuh, something like that,” the younger turian said, taking three steps backwards.

“Tell me, did you.. restrain yourself to only the outside, or did you release inside as well?”

Chellick’s neck turned a dark blue shade, and he started fidgeting with his talons.

“Spirits, that’s incredible irresponsible of you.” Publius crossed his arms.

“Hey, these things happen. Yelling won’t make the smell go away.” Shepard stepped in front of Chellick and stared down the doctor, whom stared right back.

“And what do you think removes that ‘smell’, recruit Shepard?”

“Well, that’s… why we’re here. Don’t rightly know.”

“That makes two of us. Sex between turians are rarely something to be ashamed of, but the two of you..”

“I’m not ashamed of it, but it can’t be made public,” Shepard snapped.

“Which is precisely the thing a prophylactic could have prevented. Did you forget that, Decian Chellick?”

Publius shifted his gaze to Chellick, who was cowering in a corner. He’d broken too many rules already tonight to be able to lie to another superior.

“No, I, uh, sort of lost it.”

“Lost it? How?”

“It was dark,” Shepard said quickly, not wanting Chellick to go into too many details.

“Dark? Too dark to see what the hell you were doing? Where were you, hiding in a cupboard?”

“No!”

“Yes!”

Shepard glared at Chellick. He was starting to unravel, nervously filing his talons against one another.

“I see. Who in this room is actually telling the truth?”

“It wasn’t a cupboard,” Shepard said, preparing to mount a plausible counter-explanation, when she was interrupted by her boyfriend.

“It was commander Vyrnnus’ gun storage.”

Shepard spun around and glared more daggers at him. Publius’ eyes widened like two exploding marbles, and his mandibles started to twitch erratically.

“Commander Vyrnnus’ gun storage?”

“Yes,” Chellick said, looking down with a shameful expression.

“With the commander still in his office, or..?”

“Yes.”

“I see..” Publius’ mandibles appeared to have developed a life of their own, separate from the man himself. They twitched and jerked in all directions.

“Excuse me.”

The good doctor vanished out the door, and shortly after they heard a series of flanging barks in the corridor.

Shepard glanced at Chellick.

“Is he..?”

“Laughing? Yes.”

He looked miserable, and she took pity on him, interlacing his talons with her fingers. Lying wasn’t in his nature, and she’d made him go against his principles more than once today.

“It’s fine. Let him laugh. At least we had fun. Some of the time.”

Chellick flared his mandibles in a relived smile.

“Some of it was great, yes. But please not again.”

“I promise, no more sex in Vyrnnus’ office, okay?”

“Okay.” He bent down to kiss her.

“Don’t you two start in here as well.” Publius had returned.

Chellick straightened up and stood at attention.

“No, sir.”

“We’ll try sending you through the process for germ sterilization, see if that won’t kill a few of those scent molecules, but internally.. That will have to wear off by itself.”

“And in the meantime, am I supposed to roam the station smelling like this?”

Publius tried to maintain his professional composure behind a cough, failed to hide the amusement glittering in his eyes.

“I think it would be better if you were quarantined for a few days under suspicion of a highly contagious yet relatively harmless human malady.” He checked his omni-tool. “Chicken pox? Rubella? No matter. We’ll pick one, and you will stay here for the duration of the scent evaporation.”

Shepard rolled her eyes. “Gods, you are never touching me again, Decian.”

“That would probably be for the best,” Publius smiled at the dismayed younger turian. “But knowing Shepard, she’ll grant you clemency once she’s out of here. Whenever that may be. Good night, recruit Chellick. Recruit Shepard, you’re coming with me.”

 

 

**2175 CE – February** **2** **3** **rd** **–** **Mess Hall** **–** **07** **:** **07A** **M**

After yesterday’s vid-call, Garrus had been most anxious to find Shepard and discuss things with her. His father had been happy to see him, as had his mother, but they were very careful to avoid the last topic of conversation. Garrus suspected his father of having brought Vistilla as a buffer against further outbursts on his part, but found he didn’t much mind. Another awkward shouting match was the last thing he wanted now that things were looking up on his part. His team was ranked number one, Shepard had written a glowing recommendation for him after the exam, probably far better than he deserved, and he personally was doing fine. The one thing that did weigh on his mind was his visor, and the information it contained. His parents had been plied with words of duty and his amazing shot over the river, and they both seemed relieved he was not about to start another verbal fight. Garrus had to ask somebody.

“ _Dad,_ _mom_ _, I want to ask you something.”_

_His father tensed. “Yes?”_

“ _If someone knew something that was bad, about one of the other students here, but that student didn’t want to talk about it, what would you do?”_

“ _What sort of bad are we talking about, Garrus?”_

“ _Excessive punishment, injuries during training, that sort of thing.”_

“ _I would report it to my superiors.”_

“ _And if that’s not an option?”_

“ _That is always the option._ _Son, what are we talking about here? Are you in trouble? Is someone mistreating you?” Galenus looked_ _upset, and his wife put a calming hand on his cowl._

“ _No, it’s_ _just_ _hypothetical._ _Nothing to do with me,” Garrus said, trying to defuse the situation._

“ _Someone you care about, then?” Vistilla smiled gently._

“ _Maybe,” he admitted._

“ _Talk to this person. Find out the truth, then decide with_ _them_ _what you’ll do.”_

 

The conversation lingered in his mind. What if Shepard thought he meddled in her affairs? What if she got angry? And worse, what if he could help her, and had remained silent for too long? The only solution he could think of was to find her, but she was nowhere to be seen. Usually she sat with the older turians at their table, right next to Chellick, but he sat alone today with a forlorn expression and low hanging mandibles. Did they have a fight?

“Would you sit still,” Argyle hissed. “You’re all over the place.”

“Sorry. Have you seen Shepard?”

“No, I haven’t. She’s probably sleeping in, like a sensible person. I’m going back to bed too after finishing this.” Argyle pointed to the mountain on his plate.

“Ugh, disgusting. Aren’t you going to train today?” Mevia tapped her talons on the table.

“On my day off? Hell, no.”

“Lazy human.”

“Yes I am. And this lazy humans got more kills than you on the exam.”

“That’s not… you also got yourself killed!” Mevia shrieked.

“Eternal glory while you live on in ignominy.”

The two of them continued to bicker, and Castor leaned over to Garrus side.

“I heard one of my fellow medics say she’s in the med bay, some common terran infection. Nothing serious, just keeping her away from the other humans until they get it expunged.”

“Human infection? Not transferable to turians?”

“No, I don’t think so. A children’s malady, or something.”

“I’ll go see her then. I won’t be in any danger from Shepard.”

“Oh yeah?! Well, meet me at the gym later, you needle tooth wench, I’ll show you what for!”

Argyle had risen from his seat, pointing a wide finger at Mevia “But first I want my nap. Don’t worry, I could beat you in my sleep too.”

“Arrogant ape,” she called after him without any real malice.

“You want to see this, Garrus?” Nirea smiled.

“There won’t be a winner today either, they are almost as good as I am. I’m off to find Shepard.”

“Almost as good?” Mevia made an obscene turian gesture. “I’ll take you on any day of the week, Vakarian.”

Garrus laughed. “Sure, but later, I have to go.”

 

**2175 CE – February** **2** **3** **rd** **–** **Med Bay Reception** **–** **0** **8:35** **A** **M**

“The room of Jane Shepard, please.”

The receptionist was not the usual brown-plated Liscus, but a human male, trying to find the turian’s notes.

“Can’t see why she’s been admitted,” he said and swiped furiously on the datapad. “There appears to be no-.. ah, there. Mumps. Doesn’t seem to be dangerous for turians. Allowed turian visitors.. Victus, E, Nerva, A, Chellick, D and Corinthus, C? Which are you?”

Garrus looked at the human, trying to sound sincere. “Emerus Victus.”

“Can’t really tell you apart yet, I’m new here. Room 26.”

The human waved him inside, and Garrus felt awful for having lied, but this was important. In front of the room, he steadied his nerves and knocked three times. The ‘come in’ was uttered, and he swung open the door and entered.  
“Sorry for interrupting, Shepard, but I..”

The smile she wore when she turned around froze, and Garrus’ mandibles slackened. The lingering scent in that room.. Shepard was.. had been.. He spun around and tried to escape, but a firm hand grabbed the inside of his cowl and dragged him back inside.

“Garrus, buddy, we need to talk.”

“I have to go, I have to leave,” he mumbled, trying to claw his way out of the door.

“Garrus, let go of the door frame, I’m not above giving your waist a quick pat to loosen that grip.”

He dropped the frame like it was on fire.

“That’s better. How about you sit down here, and I sit over here, and we talk about.. whatever we need to talk about.”

“Fine.” Garrus kept his eyes fixed on the floor as he walked over to the chair.

“I guess the turian is out of the bag. I’m seeing someone on this station.”

“I can tell,” Garrus said, still with averted eyes.

“I kinda figured. Are you upset about that?”

_Yes, because it’s not me_ , he said internally.

Externally, the answer was a “No.”

“I know that a human with a turian is.. would be frowned upon, and if this becomes a problem between us, we need to talk about it.”

Garrus looked up with a confused frown. She thought he would mind her dating a turian? After what he told her on Eden Prime?

“No, I don’t have a problem with it.” He tried smiling at her. “At least I know that I still have a shot with you, right? Because you adore turians.”

That made the lopsided smile he liked appear again, and Garrus decided to be honest like she was to him.

“Actually, I already knew. Have known, for a time.”

“What? How? We’ve been caref-.. okay, moderately careful.”

Garrus scooted his chair next to hers and pulled out his visor from his pocket.

“Don’t be very angry with me, or us, but there’s something you should see.”

He found the recording and set it to ‘ready’. Handing the visor over to someone else was strange, but he had no choice.

“Press play when you’re ready.”

Shepard gave him a puzzled look, strapped the visor over her eye and started playback. It only took about 30 seconds before she realized what this was, and her entire demeanor changed. Her face went blank, her body stiffened, and the blood drained from her cheeks. She almost looked like a pale salarian. After a few minutes she started skipping ahead, refusing to look at him. Garrus burned with shame. He remembered what he’d been like in the weeks before this, and all that kept flooding back as Shepard relived some of the worst memories in her short life. Ninety minutes of the most brutal beating Garrus had ever seen was shortened to seven minutes, and it still felt like forever. Shepard unclasped the visor and handed it back to him, slowly.

“So, you know.”

“Yes.”

“You all know.”

“Just Squad 4. We never told anyone else.”

“Why?”

“Because.. because this happened because of me. And we knew you might get sent of Gagarin if you didn’t comply with Vyrnnus.” Garrus tried to find somewhere to stare except her while he spoke.

“And not one of you asked?” Her voice was more curious than angry.

“No. Back then.. you were pretty scary, and we were.. uh..”

“Afraid I might get upset. I get it. I wasn’t really trying at the time.”

Garrus didn’t know how to respond, and he tried to veer the conversation in a different direction.

“With this recording, we can show the captain what Vyrnnus did to you!”

Shepard gave him a mirthless smile.

“The captain is powerless against the board, and the board sides with Vyrnnus every time. They know about this, it was part of the package after I.. after our first meeting.”

He shrunk in his chair.

“So it’s sort of my fault. Sorry, She-..”

“No!”

Her vehement exclamation made him jump.

“This is not your fault, Garrus, it never was. I did this to myself, and to us. Don’t dare place any blame where it doesn’t belong.” She stared at him, and there was no choice but to nod fervently. Shepard relented and leaned back.

“We’re almost done, school will end in June and I’ll be gone. You guys will have nothing to fear from the commander after that.”

She said this like the news should please him, but it didn’t. Shepard would actually leave in a few months. Garrus had not given that much thought until now, and that thought made his mandibles droop.

“Garrus? What’s the matter?”

“Hmm? I’m fine, it’s just.. You don’t want to do anything about this?”

She shrugged.

“Want and can are two different things. After this exam, you guys got to pick your specialization. I have to wait until my three years here are over.”

“What will you do?”

“If I do well, I’ll be accepted into the N7-program, the elite training among humans.”

“Oh. Maybe that’s like Spectre-training among turians?”

“I thought they picked from already proven soldiers for that?”

Garrus tried to shrug like she had done.

“They do, but it doesn’t hurt getting an edge on your competitors. I would love to go, but my father..”

He hesitated. Shepard merely smiled.

“Doesn’t approve of your wishes?”

“No. He like things by the book, and Spectres do what they like, or so he says.”

“Heh, I’ve heard. Saren Arterius in particular.”

“Saren is famous among turians,” Garrus said with a dreamy expression. “Strong, ruthless, capable. Nobody understands how your mother managed to rip his mandibles apart, being a mere human. I heard those cybernetic implants he had to get make him click when he speaks.” He looked at Shepard to see if he’d crossed some sort of boundary.

“Mom doesn’t talk a lot about that herself,” she said reluctantly. “Those pirates got away, but she and the Alliance wanted to make it clear that as long as we’re not a Council species, Council enforcers are not freely welcome to cross our part of space.”

Garrus saw she was hiding something, but said nothing and waited. Eventually she shook her head and confessed to the truth.

“Saren putting my uncle David in the hospital might’ve had something to do with mom’s harsh response.”

Her honesty made Garrus feel obligated to share some family history of his own.

“A family feud then. Not unfamiliar to me. The Vakarians and the Fedorians have been on bad terms for years.”

“The primarch’s family?”

“The very same.”

“Wow, you sure know how to pick your enemies.”

Garrus scooted a little closer to the bed.

“The primarch and the elder Shepard, yes. But maybe Shepard the younger will break that cycle?”

Shepard flashed him another toothy smile.

“Maybe. At least you and I will be friends, right?”

“I hope so.” He returned her smile with a wide pointy smile of his own.

After a few seconds of just grinning foolishly at each other, Garrus cleared his throat.

“So, about the recording..?”

“Just delete it. And don’t tell the others you’ve told me. I’d rather not have to explain this again.”

“Uh, right. You know, I still think..”

“Garrus, please?”

“Right. Consider it gone.”

“Thank you.”

She got out of the bed and stretched up to give him a hug. He was quick to put his arms around her lest this opportunity didn’t present itself again, and immediately regretted it. _The smell. Spirits, the smell._ Shepard smelled like turian sex, and him being a very deprived young turian, responded with loosening plates.

“Uuuh, Shepard, you might want to let go now.”

She released her hold at once, to his relief and regret.

“Sorry, did I pinch you somewhere?”

“It’s not that, you just smell like.. ah.. temptation. Too much, if you get my drift.”

“Ooh.. turians are bad with temptations, then? Plates easily opened?”

Garrus closed his eyes and tried to think about a naked krogan. She was teasing him, the awful human.

“No, just when it’s fills our nostrils to the brim.”

The embarrassed chuckle made him peek at her.

“Yeah, looks like I’ll be in here forever.”

“More like a week or two,” he teased back.

“Out, rude turian, go do something useful, like pestering Castor or the others.”

“Anything you say, Shepard.”

Having closed the door to her room, Garrus stood in the corridor and pressed delete on the visor. The message in his eye asked him to confirm. His orders was clear, and yet, he hesitated. Finally, he canceled the delete, renamed the vid Armor Maintenance and hid it among other files. The motivation behind this was unclear, but he couldn’t bring himself to remove it. Shepard would never know.

 

**2175 CE –** **March 02** **nd** **–** **Obstacle course** **–** **21:36 PM**

“The human instinct is weak,” Vyrnnus proclaimed as he walked in a close circle around Shepard.

“Not entirely devoted to flight, not predisposed towards fight. Neither volus nor krogan, as it were.”

He made a short jab against her face, and Shepard jerked away, followed by his dark flanging laugh.

“ You flinch.”

The next se cond, his foot had stomped on her toes, and she cried out in pain.

“And you squeal. But sometimes.. - ”

He jeered down at her, baring his needle teeth. Out of pure hatred she bared her own teeth back in defiance.

“ A pup can be taught to fight back. You are yet a pup, Shepard. I will burn away the prey in you, and leave only the predator.”

There was more madness than usual in his demeanor, and she held her tongue.

“You will run the course with me beside you . Hold out your hands.”

With barely contained fury she allowed herself to be shackled with the shock bracers again.

“Tonight, these are not for punishment. They are but a means to an end. You will know pain is coming, but not when. Always expect it, fight through it, and never flee from it. If you were shot on a battlefield, your comrades and your superiors would still expect you to complete your mission. If you were hit by shrapnel, patch it up and continue on. The war has no place for weakness.”

Shepard frowned. “What war? The First Contact war?”

Vyrnnus leaned down and smiled. “There will always be another war, Shepard. The Council will not always be around to save humanity.”

“Guess we’ll have to save ourselves,” Shepard bit back.

“Good!” He slapped her on her back, making her tumble forward. “This is what I want to see tonight. Resilience. Tenacity. Warrior spirit.”

She glared at him from the ground. “You know this might be conditioning me to become afraid on the battlefield?”

“You will surpass the low bar of your species and overcome your weak mind, or you will fall. In the end, it makes no difference to me.”

His tall shadow loomed over her, and she resisted the urge to pull back.

“Work through the pain, or suffer worse afterwards.”

Not a word was uttered as she hoisted herself back up and stared at the long course laying before them. In her peripheral vision she saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. _That’s right, asshole. I won’t break, and I fucked my boyfriend silly in your office, on your desk,_ _in your presence_ _._ Shepard grinned savagely and started her run. No point in delaying. No pain, no gain, right?

 

**2175 CE – March 09 th – Sand Pit – 14:44 PM**

“Come on Garrus, get her!” Castor shouted from the sideline.

“You got his scrawny ass Mevia, knock him down!” Strabo yelled just as eagerly.

Shepard watched the fight with arms crossed. She had no favored outcome, and the match was evenly balanced. Garrus had his long reach, but Mevia seemed to slip out of his grasp every time he locked her down. She, on the other hand could not get close enough to him to do real damage. After 35 brutal minutes, Shepard stopped the fight.

“That was vigorous. I hereby declare a draw.”

“Aw, come on, they were just about to roll around in the sand,” Aius complained.

“Yeah, no fair, Shepard. You always talk about ground pounding your opponent, and this was getting good.”

“It was getting late, is what it was,” Shepard chuckled back. “I don’t want to have to get in there and kick both their asses for not attending dinner.”

“Both of us?” Mevia laughed. “Nice one. I mean, you did fairly against two opponents in the exam, but they weren’t Fours.”

“True,” Shepard grinned, “but I’m not wearing a collar today. I’d slaughter you two like rabbits.”

“Oooooh, it’s on, human,” Garrus chuffed. “Get in here and face the best.”

“No offensive biotics, though,” Mevia warned. “That’s not fair.”

“I’m not here to learn you to fight fair, I’m here to learn you to survive, to win. But as you wish, no offensive moves. Still plenty I can do without those.”

She jogged onto the sand and raised her guard.

“Show me the might of the Hierarchy, then.”

Garrus and Mevia spread out and approached her from both sides. Good students, Shepard reflected, but she still had a few surprises in her sleeve. Mevia tried several jabs, while Garrus flung his arms out to get a hold of, well, anything, really. Shepard kited them around the pit for a while, throwing an occasional punch or leg swipe. The two of them was already worn out from their previous bout, and Shepard only had to wait for her moment. It was Mevia whom first became impatient, and lunged herself forward. Shepard backed up until she was almost crashing into Garrus. Mevia swung wide to break her guard, but Shepard flared her biotics and used dash to disappear in a purple haze.

“Wha-..”

Mevia’s oncoming fist connected with Garrus face and the hard blow knocked him over.

From the sideline Castor and Aius was whooping with glee, while Strabo booed loudly.

While Garrus rolled around on the ground clutching his face, Shepard started her own assault on Mevia. Neither of them had Garrus’ reach, so the fighting was close and intense, but Mevia was already faltering from exhaustion and missing almost every strike. Shepard was a biotic blur, dashing all over the field and attacking from every angle, leaving the turian no room to breathe.

“Cheater!” Strabo shouted from the sideline, while Argyle and the others were laughing their asses off.

Shepard finally got tired of playing, ran straight for Mevia in her biotic rush, leaped up feet first and slammed into Mevia’s chest, one foot on each side of her keel bone. The air went out of the turian with a loud “Ooouffh,” before she tumbled over on the ground.

Shepard spun around to locate Garrus. During her fight with Mevia he’d managed to get up and grabbed her from behind, hoisting her off the sands.

“Got you!” he snarled.

Shepard gave a half strangled chuckle and twisted in his grip.

“Not a chance, Shepard. You’re mine.”

They continued to wrestle until Garrus managed to pin her against a vertical wall standing on the edge of the pit.

“What now? Ready to admit defeat? I won fair and square,” he hummed.

Shepard smiled like a hungry shark.

“There is a huge flaw in your reasoning, Vakarian. I don’t fight fair.” Quick as a flash she leaned closer and placed her lips on his mouth plates.

“Mmph!”

Garrus’ eyes widened in shock, but he didn’t loosen his grip. Shepard slipped her tongue between his plates and he involuntarily tried to push the intruder out with his own tongue. A half snarl, half purr tore from his throat as she sucked his blue tongue into her own mouth. Garrus felt like he was floating on air, and two seconds later he was, legs swept from under him and crashing down on the sands.

“Nnooh.”

Shepard tapped him on the cowl.

“Killed.”

“Heey, abuse of power,” Argyle called and wolf whistled loudly.

“Cheater, cheater, cheater,” the rest of the squad chanted and guffawed.

“Thank you, thank you, I’m here all year,” Shepard grinned and took a bow.

“You all right?” She held out an arm and pulled Garrus up.

“Yeah..”

“You sure? That was rather inappropriate of me, but you had me pinned pretty good. Couldn’t really blast you again, so I improvised.”

“Yeah.. I’m.. fine..Just.. fine..”

He must’ve looked as confused as he sounded, because Shepard made a fuzz over him all the way to the locker room, and apologized several times over. While the others changed to go to dinner, Garrus hung back and waited for them to leave. He wanted, no, he needed to use that particular shower stall again, and wished them all gone.

At last there was only one left, and that someone was Mevia.

“Hey Garrus, good fight today. We’ll get her next time, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried,” he said and got up. “Need a shower.”

“You know, we never decided on the victor between _us_ out there,” she smiled at him.

“Hmm? Oh, next time.”

“How about now?” Mevia was purring, and Garrus raised a brow plate.

“Now? You mean..?”

“That’s exactly what I mean. You know what the showers are for, right?”

“Uh, you and Strabo,” Garrus said blankly.

“Me and Strabo are fine. You and I will be better.”

Garrus blinked several times as Mevia dropped her towel. She was a very attractive turian, and he was completely oversexed after his treatment from Shepard.

“I.. fine. Not in the stalls, though.” _Not in her spot._ His mind reeled at the thought.

“What, those flimsy things? No, we’ll have it out in the common room, all that space to ourselves. A rematch to remember.”

Garrus doubted Shepard would mind if he had some fun with another female, after all, he was unattached and available, and she was with Chellick. Even if she just kissed him..

The thought of betraying Strabo, however, was a lot worse. At the same time, Mevia had promised Strabo nothing, he was merely hoping she would. She was a free agent, like Garrus. Mevia beckoned him to follow, and he walked after her to the showers in a haze of lust and bad conscience.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no reason at all for bringing up Saren, none whatsoever, people XD  
> Since there are no Reapers, Saren will not be indoctrinated and turned into a half turian/half machine, but I wanted to keep those mangled mandibles, since they are such a standout trait for his character, and here we are; Hannah Shepard, turian hater and mandible ripper. :D  
> And if anyone wonders, no, Shepard have no intentions of sleeping with Garrus yet, she just didn't want to lose, and made a rash split decision to escape that fate. Poor turian..
> 
> Still fighting with that darn AO3 formatting.. if any words are cobbled together let me know.


	33. Rays of a blue sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard does her walk to Canossa, and Vyrnnus has a very good day.

**2175 CE –** **March 0** **9** **th** **–** **Mess Hall** **–** **19:32** **PM**

Her friends were already seated when Shepard arrived, and Chellick waved at her to get her to come on over. The feeling in the pit of her stomach lurched and she feared telling them what she’d done, but there was no other option. Within hours her little stunt in the pit would have traveled all over Gagarin. The truth would sound better coming from her, even if it was bad. She went to the counter and got a tray of meatloaf before joining her friends.

“Hey Sheppie, looking good today.”

“Say that again Victus, and I’ll have your spurs for sushi sticks.”

“Oh, that’s a new low, even for you,” Emerus chuckled.

“No, that’s nowhere near as low I can go.” Shepard exhaled and set down the eating utensils. “I have something to confess.”

“Spirits, here we go.” Celsus scratched his fringe and sat up. “I’ve already talked to Nirea, are you sure you want to say this?”

“Say what?” Arista leaned forward on her elbows, looking intrigued.

“I kissed one of my squad members today.”

The table went quiet and all eyes turned to Chellick, who blinked several times and twitched his mandibles.

“I suspect there’s more to this than just that,” he said sourly. “Let’s hear it then.”

“Wait, can we bet on this? I got ten tokens on Aius, the little pervert with the Fornax collection.” Emerus grinned until he was smacked on the cowl by Arista.

“Really? We’re going to bet on a friend's misery? Shame on you. And it’s totally Garrus, Shepard’s little abused fan.”

“You’re all perverts,” Celsus smiled. “I place my tokens toward Argyle, she must’ve gotten tired with the chafing, Decian.”

Despite his anger, Chellick let out a small chuffing laugh.

“Cut it out, you’re all lousy friends. And you’re not doing so well for yourself either,” he added sarcastically to Shepard. “Go on.”

“We were about to finish up classes when I made a casual remark to Mevia and Garrus that I could kick both their asses at the same time.”

“Garrus Vakarian,” Chellick said under his breath.

“Nailed it,” Arista grinned and gave a hum.

“Both of them? Bold, considering you trained them yourself.” Emerus shook his head.

“Well, things were going good, up to the point when I found myself pinned against a wall with nowhere to go.”

“Aren’t you biotic?” Emerus raised a brow plate.

“We agreed no offensive moves. Anyway, I had very little room for escape, and I know he’s got a crush on me, so I kissed him and used the surprise to leg sweep him.”

“Wait, what? You knowingly used that information to fuck with his head? Not okay, Shepard.” Coming from Celsus, it was a strong rebuke.

“I know,” she said uneasy and put her hands under the table. “But I did it anyway. I just couldn’t lose.”

Chellick’s eyes narrowed and studied her more intently. There was no sympathy from Arista when she spoke.

“I agree with Celsus, that was just cruel, Shepard.”

“I know. I told him I was sorry, and now I have to apologize to you, Decian. It was an asshole move, and neither you nor Garrus deserved that.”

“No, we didn’t,” he said simply, still staring at her. “When you said you couldn’t lose..”

“It’s just.. I promised not to use biotics, and I didn’t want to break his arms or snap his second voice box.”

The table went quiet again.

“That’s kill moves, Jane,” Chellick said quietly and fixed his eyes on the place on the table directly over her hands. “What are you doing under there.”

“What? Nothing.”

She hurriedly put her hands in her pockets.

“You were massaging your wrists again, weren’t you?”

“I’m fine Chellick, nothing to worry about.”

“Show me!”

“No. It’s fine.”

He leaned down and hissed in her ear. “If you ever want me to believe another word you say, you’ll show me.”

Their friends remained quiet as a battle of wills ensued between the lovers, her cold gray stare meeting his fiery green. Only the certain knowledge that she was in the wrong, made Shepard drop her gaze.

“Fine.”

She gave him a hand, and he pulled her sweater over her wrist. The skin was flaming red, small scorch marks encircling around her arm, and Chellick snapped his mandibles to his face.

“How long?”

“Not long.”

“How. Long. Jane? And hiding it from me?”

Shepard tore her arm away and almost snarled. Her friends looked stunned.

“Yeah, I hid it from you! Know why? Because when I train with others I feel like I need to kill them! I know the fastest way to incapacitate a turian or break a human’s neck. I see your faces every time I train with Vyrnnus, and it becomes easier to make the kill shot every time! When Garrus pinned me, some part of me wanted to rip his fringe off!”

She sat back and tried to regain her composure while her friends looked uncomfortable. Shepard knew she’d just ruined dinner.

“It’s no excuse, but I just.. I couldn’t lose. I can almost feel the stinging every time I get close to defeat now.”

“Shepard, we should-..” Chellick begun, but Shepard cut him off.

“That’s the point. You always say that, and I say no, and you still push. Makes me want to hurt you too. Do you know what that makes me? You told me once yourself. Just like Vyrnnus.”

The tremor in her right hand returned, and Shepard drew her breath in short sharp breaths. The sympathy in Chellick’s eyes after her betrayal and following outburst made her feel like the lowest shitheel on the station, and when one counted Vyrnnus in that group , that was saying something.

“Meatloaf aren’t really my favorite,” she smiled bleakly. “I’ll.. have some rations later.”

With that she hurriedly left the hall.

 

“Wait, Jane,” Chellick said and stood up to follow her.

“No, you wait,” Arista said and pulled him down. “Let her have a moment. She needs to breathe and you need to eat.”

“Not hungry anymore.”

“Can I have it?” Emerus reached over the table to grab his plate.

“Manners, Emerus,” Arista said disapprovingly.

“So, on a scale of one to ten, how mad are you?” Celsus asked his friend.

“About a six,” Chellick said and shoved the food around his plate. “Not fond of her kissing other turians, but she came clean about it. I’m more worried about her state of mind. Vyrnnus makes her do things that aren’t healthy. You saw those electrical burns. He’s conditioning her again, under the guise of training.”

“I just don’t understand what he’s getting from that.” Emerus shook his head. “There’s nothing in it for him.”

“Unless he thinks it’s amusing,” Chellick growled. “I know he broke a first years arm the other year, because she slipped up. Now he has someone who can’t report him to play with.”

“Why don’t you just tell somebody?”

Chellick sighed. “We tried, but even Doctor Publius had to be careful around that barefaced menace. Now let this go,” he said imploringly, “we’re already spoken too much about this in public. I’ll talk to her later, okay?”

“Uh, don’t look, but here’s your rival..” Celsus nodded to the double doors.

Chellick swiveled his head to see Garrus enter the mess hall, closely followed by Mevia. The young turian walked with is head down, staring at the floor as he approached the food counter.

“I think he knows you want to sacrifice his gizzard to the spirits,” Emerus whispered.

“Don’t be stupid,” Chellick waved his friend to keep it down. “I don’t want that, I just want him to be aware that I know that he knows about Jane and me, and he’s not to kiss my girlfriend again, even if she’s the one that starts it, unless he wants me to knock his plates into his seam.”

“That’s a whole lot of knowing and awareness for a little turian,” Arista snickered as the pair got closer. “He might just-.. do you guys smell that?”

As Garrus and Mevia came closer, the scent of sex wafted around them. Chellick’s mandibles flared into a huge grin, teeth glinting in his mouth. This was the best outcome to all his problems, that little kiss thief entangled with a turian female instead of pining after his human. He preferred to be the main deviant on this station, thank you.

“Wow, they… Is Shepard that bad of a kisser? One try, and Vakarian ran to the nearest turian female.” Emerus whispered.

“Doubt she put her heart in it,” Chellick hummed happily. “I would trade one of my cousins for one kiss from her.” He pointed his talons at Emerus and Celsus. “You two, I’d trade for a sniff of her fringe.”

“Aaww, that’s just mean.” Emerus clicked his mandibles while Arista and Celsus laughed.

“I’m so pretty too.”

“You’re lucky Arista has bad eyesight,” Chellick continued.

“Hey, fuck you, Decian! I am gorgeous, and if Shepard wasn’t so thick, she’d be into me and we’d spend the nights screwing in a certain gun storage too.”

“Would you now?” Arista said with a deadly glare.

“Uh, I didn’t mean I wanted it, just that _if_ I wanted it, Chellick wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Mhm..” Arista pushed her chair away from the table and walked out.

“See what you made me do!” Emerus cast an angry glance at Chellick who was chuffing from his throat, then ran after Arista.

“That’s impressive,” Celsus said as he watched the retreating backs of their friends. “Your girlfriend kisses another guy, and Emerus is the one in trouble.”

“He deserved it,” Chellick shrugged. “Besides, Arista is never angry for long.”

At the back of the mess hall there was a large clatter of plates and trays as a furious thrum carried through the air.

“Oh,” Chellick said darkly. “I seem to remember Shepard mentioning that Strabo had a thing for Mevia.”

“Looks like he still does,” Celsus remarked as Strabo stormed out of the hall, not caring how many tables he turned in his wake.

Celsus finished his mug and Chellick finished his meal in three big chomps before he stood up.

“Catch you later, Celsus. I’ll go find Jane before she joins Vyrnnus for training. I’m going to sulk a little to her face and guilt trip her into kissing me a lot more than that little sneak, and if there’s time after that, warn her that her squad just became unstable.”

 

**2175 CE –** **March 0** **9** **th** **–** **Library** **–** **20:10** **PM**

“Jane?”

“Up here.”

“Hiding from me with another turian? Maybe Castor?”

“Oh, hardy har,” Shepard said and gave him the finger.

“Not here to fight, just to claim your penance,” Chellick smiled and sat down beside her.

“Oh really? And how many waist rubs and kisses is needed to pay my way out of this dung heap?”

“Mmmh, depends on how talented you are,” Chellick hummed and claimed her mouth. She climbed into his lap and started stroking her fingers into the hide between his plates wherever she could reach.

“That’s feels very nice.”

Chellick buried his face in the crook of her neck, enjoying the one sided attention and cursing Vyrnnus for having scheduled her next class in 20 minutes. After relishing in her physical apology for almost a quarter of an hour, he reluctantly took her hands.

“We need to talk.”

“I know.” She leaned her forehead on his crest. “Any apology you want, I’ll say it.”

“Not that. It’s about your training.”

Her body stiffened, but he had no soft transition to this topic.

“Jane, I know it’s difficult, but you at least need to talk to me about this, if nobody else. You’re becoming.. dangerous in training if you’re thinking these things.”

“I’d welcome ideas that didn’t include running to the board.”

“Always stubborn,” he hummed. “I don’t have any other good ideas, but you need to tell me about your lesson when you’re done for the day. You need to.. to separate one from the other, instead of keeping everything inside in the same place.”

“That almost sound like compartmentalization,” Shepard smiled.

“Yes. The Jane Shepard that trains with Vyrnnus can’t come out and play with the rest of us.”

“That Shepard would feel very alone in the end.”

“No, she won’t. She can talk to me in here, or in the locker room, but the real Jane needs to stay in control.”

Jane looked at him with a defeated expression. “Which is the real one?”

“The one I love.”Chellick wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, knowing that he would shortly be releasing her to her tormentor.

 

**2175 CE – March 15 th – Shooting Range – 10:36 AM**

Ever since his tryst with Mevia in the showers, Garrus had walked around the station in constant self disgust. His first meeting with Mevia hadn’t been the last, their second and third encounter made him feel like he was rubbing it in Strabo’s face. Strabo himself said as little as possible to the pair of them, and Mevia pretended there was no problem. Garrus had no illusions about his relationship with the recon scout. It was stress relief, and the moment she was bored with him he’d get the kick in the hind plates like Strabo. In fact, she didn’t even speak to him any more than she usually did, but instead spent her time trading insults with Argyle or trying to pry details about Celsus and Nirea’s relationship from the other female. Outside of the showers, he was nothing but a teammate. Still, casual sex would have been a good thing, if not for Strabo’s badly concealed longing looks in Mevia's direction, and his constant resentment of Garrus.

His fellow squad-mates hadn’t taken sides in this debacle, but if Strabo continued to under-perform as Shepard’s second, there would be complaints coming in soon.

“So Garrus, still undefeated shooting champion of Four,” Aius smiled and sat down beside him.

“You didn’t do to bad yourself. Been training outside classes?”

“I have better things to do with my spare time. No, I’m completely relaxed and stress free, courtesy of the mailman. Makes for a steady hand.”

Garrus rolled his eyes, a very human expression he’d picked up on Gagarin.

“Those Fornax girlfriends are keeping you busy?”

“Yep. And this one in particular.” He checked to see if Shepard was looking in their direction, then quickly pulled a laminated picture out of his pocket.

“Really? You had this one encased in plastic for eternity?”

“Wouldn’t last as long if I didn’t. Look at her.”

Garrus humored him and took a peek, and promptly almost swallowed his tongue. There, in the small photo was a woman, wearing little besides an alluring smile and a small chest harness . She looked like a lot like Shepard, only older.

“Nice, huh? They made an army edition, badass Alliance officers wearing little but hats and insignia. This one is supposed to be the young Hannah Shepard, and since she resembles her daughter..”Aius let his words linger and leered at the picture. Garrus wanted to snatch it from him. This was just.. wrong.

“You like humans?” he said with a strangled voice.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything when you went with the most vicious turian female on this side of the Traverse. Let me have my own proclivities.”

“But.. humans?”

“Why not? I think they look nice. Some of them look _very_ nice,” he purred to the picture.

“You’re sick, you know that?”

“Oh yes,” Aius grinned. “And I have no intention of a speedy recovery.”

Garrus looked away in disgust, and Aius laughed.

“You can be such a prude, Vakarian.”

“I doubt that,” Strabo sneered as he passed them. “Plates so loose you can actually hear them clank when he walks.”

“Ooh, scorched,” Aius snickered after Strabo was out of earshot.

“I don’t know what to do about that.” Garrus hung his head. “I wasn’t planning on this.”

“Don’t worry,” Aius said in an unctuous voice. “When Mevia is done with the both of you, you can form a club; Discarded Dummies.”

“Maybe she’ll grow to like me,” Garrus said bristling.

“And maybe you’ll sprout wings and fly away. Mark my words, Mevia only has eyes for one person on this station, and it isn’t you.”

“You think it’s you?”

“Nope. And it’s not Strabo either. The four of you are all idiots.”

“Who is it, then?” Garrus begged.

“Oh no, I’m not poking that krogan. Besides, I got a bet with Nirea.”

“Fuck you!”

“I like fucking myself, so that’s not much of a curse. Ah, my turn at the range.”

Aius got up and fetched his rifle. Holding it out in front of him, the muzzle didn’t even quiver.

“See? Calm and relaxed.”’

“Whatever.”

Garrus refused to acknowledge his presence any longer. If he was a substitute, who was his replacement? And why didn’t the headstrong Mevia just pick the one she actually liked? He resented being used like this, even if the sex was all right, but he could shrug that off. Seeing Aius walk away with a nude pretend picture of Shepard, however, that made him furious. She was _his_ fantasy. Stupid Aius had better watch out for burglars.

 

**2175 CE –** **March** **25** **th** **–** **Training Field** **–** **22:48 PM**

Vyrnnus reran the time and the score sheet on his omni-tool, and felt a rising gratification from the numbers. All his trials were finally coming to fruition. The unwilling, stubborn, foolish human who’d caused no end of grievances in her three years here was finally becoming the example he so needed. She no linger veered of target because of pain, she no longer hesitated to fire upon those close to her, she followed orders even if she knew a better course through the maze. He had molded an enemy of the turians in their image. The toughest course from his Spectre training that he could remember he had painstakingly recreated on the field, and the human Shepard just aced it. Twice. Aided by threat of pain and misery, she was willing to do anything to succeed. With her as a specimen, he could now get a foot in the door. After saving the recording of her laps and stats, he walked down on the field. His little pet was standing at attention, staring straight ahead without betraying the fear he knew she felt. It was rather impressive, for a human.

“You’ve done well tonight.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“So well, in fact, that a reward is in place.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You may resume the standard third year curriculum from tomorrow.”

“Wha-..sir? We are not to train together any more?”

“Not like this. I will see enough of you in class,” he smiled. “But you have learned all I need you to know for now. You’ve helped Vakarian excel in classes and on the field. I think we might say you’ve done your time.”

He stepped closer and cupped her face with one hand, pressing his talons in her skin without breaking the soft flesh. Shepard didn’t even flinch.

“I remember the first time we had our little heart to heart.”

Vyrnnus dragged his thumb down her nose, then letting it caress the scar on her lip.

“I gave you this, the first of many mementos to remember me by.”

There was still no indication of repulsion or anger. Vyrnnus smiled widely.

“Usually when a student and a mentor spend so much time together, a special bond between the two develops. I must admit, if you were a turian female, I would have considered that a pleasure.”

Vyrnnus started to walk around her in a circle, letting his talons scrape over her throat.

“So calm, so detached. Death personified. Yes, you would have been a great fuck.”

Only a small twitch in the corner of her eye betrayed the emotions within, and Vyrnnus wasn’t certain it was a twitch he’d actually seen.

“I’ve heard a rumor you like getting fucked by my kind. Even going so far as to openly display that in training.”

There was still no response from her, and he planted himself in front of her, cupping her face once more and pulling her head up.

“I wonder if the rumor is true.”

Under his fingertips he felt her jaw tensing, and he held her gaze, trying to provoke a further response. There was none forthcoming. The hard gray stare revealed nothing. He sighed and dropped her chin.

“Too bad I find your species even more unattractive than the asari. A real turian prefers his own kind, in a pinch he’ll take a quarian, but you? Too many fingers, too much flesh, too much nose. Quite distasteful.”

“Yes sir. Thank you, sir.”

“I expect you in class at a regular time tomorrow, and you’ ll be for the void if I find that you’ve lagged behind on biotic theory.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t think I won’t reinstate this regime if you give me more of that famous Shepard lip.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Get out.”

 

After Shepard was gone, Vyrnnus called for maintenance to disassemble the maze and returned to his office. He opened the hidden door to his cabinet and grimaced. How on blazing Palaven that flask of gun oil had managed to fall from the top shelf and break was beyond him, but the stench now permeated everything in this room. From a small casket under his rifles he picked up a datapad, and activated the encryption program. From the folder of contacts, he found the turian he was looking for, and started typing a message.

 

_Councilor_ _S_ _._

_As per our previous correspondence, I implore you to reconsider my offer. The human threat cannot be overestimated. With_ _this new information I’m uploading along with this message, you will see that even at a young age, the_ _ir recruits_ _can rival our_ _own Spectre candidates,_ _and will doubtlessly become a real threat in the years to come._ _True negotiations with this species will only be possible if you have someone that understands their mindset and can advice our military on the subject. My knowledge of human biotic capabilities and_ _personnel_ _would also be a great asset to the Hierarchy. I would be willing to assume such a role, if I had your personal guarantee that I would not be persecuted for my service on_ _JZ_ _, nor forced to serve in the Cabals. I await your reply._

 

_Your humble servant_

_V_

 

Vyrnnus sent the message with a satisfied smile. Conatix had served him well up to now, but was time to change venue, closer to the higher echelons of power in the Hierarchy, and to his employers true goal. Shepard had been a stroke of luck for him, allowing him to approach the Councilor much earlier than anticipated. The reply came within minutes.

 

_V_

_Will send observer to ascertain claim_ _s_ _at war games. Offer to be discussed after._

_S_

 

That snooty bastard could never resist inside information. Vyrnnus archived the message with a sneer of disdain. Shepard would have little problems in shining during the war games, and if her performance wasn’t enough, he would give the Hierarchy representative a small taste of the data he could hack from Conatix. His advancement would be secured. The pieces were at last moving into position.

His omni-tool buzzed, and Vyrnnus opened the last incoming message. He gave an exasperated sigh. The news were unwelcome, but not unsurprising. Another escape. Vido’s incompetence was becoming an embarrassment, and the man had been duly warned. Time to remind everyone what happened when you failed the Suns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're beginning the outline of the future, and Vyrnnus has revealed his colors to the readers, at least.  
> I have some bad news. My boss is pushing for overtime again, including this weekend, and since that's my main writing time, the next chapter will probably be delayed a few days. I'm getting a little fed up with this, since it's been going on since February, and we've had about 5 sunny days since the beginning of May!  
> I have better things to do in the few summer days we have up here. (Like sitting inside in the dark and write, ahem..)  
> Anyway, you've been warned :)  
> If you see disjointed words, let me know. AO3 still hates my copy-paste..  
> Happy reading! XD


	34. Teen spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard gets her first taste of mediating between emotional team-members, and prays it will be for the last time.

**2175 CE – March 26 th – Mess Hall – 07:36 AM**

“Slow down, Nirea. Are you saying that Shepard won’t be on our team anymore?”

Castor was aghast. The news that Shepard was back to her regular curriculum was a shock to all of them.  
“Oh no...” Garrus sunk down and dropped his fork.

“That’s not what I said, morons!” Nirea glared at them. “Celsus told me that Shepard will be in regular biotic classes in the morning when we’re in our specialization-classes. After midday the rest of the biotic students will train as usual, but Shepard will be back with us.”

“Good. I’d hate for my little hot piece of fluff to disappear on me.” Aius stroked his chest pocket gently.

“Ugh. Stop it.” Nirea lifted her toast. “Unless you want more of this.”

“Turians,” Aius sighed. “So rough and hard. Not like the humans, so soft and malleable.”

“I’m with Nirea, stop it, sicko,” Garrus said, “I think-..”

He was cut short by a push to the back.

“Didn’t see you there, Vakarian. Sorry.” Strabo’ voice was nowhere near the sorriness he purported to have. He sat down as far away from Garrus as possible.

“Strabo, don’t be such a creep,” Nirea snapped.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Garrus wiped some sauce from his shirt.

“No, it damn well isn’t. I’m telling Shepard about this, make no mistake.”

“Don’t!”

“Whatever.”

Garrus was desperate and Strabo lackadaisical in their separate replies.

“Nirea has a good point,” Castor said . “We are a fractured team right now, and if this was a month ago, we’d lost the field exam by a good margin.”

“You know who to blame! That.. lustful creature at the end of the table,” Strabo spat.

“Strabo, I’ve said I’m sorry several times, but you and Mevia weren’t--- Ow!”

“Here they come,” Aius hissed and rubbed his elbow.

Mevia and Argyle joined them at the table, bickering as usual.

“-anything but a whining brat.”

“Really? Want me to beat the red paint out of your face plates ?” Argyle set the tray down with a bang.

“Can you two be serious for one moment,” Castor asked calmly. “This team is faltering. Our overall scores have gone down, and Victus is closing in again.”

“Don’t worry so much, Castor. We’ll still be on top by the month’s end.” Mevia smacked Argyle’s hand away from her plate. “Don’t touch my food.”

“And the month after that? We’re dropping steadily.”

“Not because of me,” Mevia said, and the Fours around the table went silent. A long awkward moment followed until Mevia caught up.

“Oh, I see how it is. We have a team full of lovesick idiots, and that’s my fault? Fuck off!”

She pushed the tray away from her and gave them all an angry glare before leaving. Castor tossed his napkin on the table.

“This is going to be a fun week.”

 

**2175 CE – April 05 th – Sleeping Quarters – 03:13 AM**

Garrus had laid in his bunk for hours, waiting for everyone else to fall asleep. The humdrum of dozens of whispering students and the occasional guilty squeak of an over-encumbered bunk lasted too long for his taste. His plan had grown over days of annoyance and anger, and even though the intended petty crime was beneath clan Vakarian, he couldn’t stand the insult any longer. Aius would be deprived of his lewd picture of pretend-Shepard, in defense of the real one’s honor. When the sounds of snoring and breathing around him were steady, Garrus rose silently from his bed and placed his naked feet on the floor. There was no stirring among the students, and he began tip-toeing his way over to Aius’ bunk. He tried to keep his talons from clicking on the wood as he carefully approached his target, eyes darting to the bunks around him to spot any irregular movements, but his visor showed no alerts. When at last he stood by Aius’ bunk, his friend was curled up on his side with his face to the wall. Not having to look at his victim as he stole Aius’ treasured possession was a relief, and Garrus’ resolve hardened. Bending down, he peered under the upper bunk above Aius. The Fornax images ripped from the magazine were pinned to the bottom of the top bunk. The Shepard image was at its center, as the pervy turian always hung it up before bedtime. Garrus gently pried the pins loose with his talons, almost shrieking in terror when one pin escaped him and fell on the sleeping Aius’ chest. Luckily, Aius was a sound sleeper and his mandibles barely twitched. The thief in the night very slowly picked up the runaway pin and slunk away from the scene of the crime. His plunder was encased in plastic, and would not be easy to tear up. It would have to burn.

Garrus made his way to the common room, and stood above the sink. The pretend-Shepard in the picture was gazing longingly at him, beckoning him to join her in the small fluffy bed she rested on. Gazing at the photo, he remembered the feel of the real Shepard’s tongue meeting it with his own and getting sucked into her warm wet mouth. His plates stirred. It seemed such a waste to ruin the picture, but Aius would start a mad search come morning, and it would be better if none of them was in possession of it. Unless.. Unless he had another medium where to hide it? Like his visor? Spirits, that was the solution. Garrus turned on enough light to focus the image properly, then took a few snaps. When he was satisfied with the quality, he renamed the folder ‘Relay Incident history lesson,’ and hid it among other class notes. Now to be rid of the physical evidence. He pulled out a small lighter and set one corner ablaze. The plastic was highly flammable, and it went up like a stack of dry wood. The tips of his talons where slightly blackened, but the worst was the stink of burned plastic. Garrus suddenly remembered something and looked up. Three feet away he saw what he feared, a smoke detector. From the couch he grabbed a large pillow and started flapping it beneath the sensor. He felt like a complete idiot, but this was better than the alternative. After ten minutes the worst of the stench had abated, and he put the pillow down and flushed the burned pieces down the drain. Now he only had to sneak back into bed and proclaim his ignorance of the night’s heist.

 

**2175 CE – April 05 th – Sleeping Quarters – 06:28 AM**

“Thieves! Thieves! You’re all a collection of depraved marauders!”

Aius was nearly hysterical when Garrus blinked awake.

“Huh?”

“They stole it. My picture! The thieves!” Aius prowled up and down the row of bunks, looking for anyone acting suspiciously. Castor came up to Garrus bed and dropped down.

“Have you heard?”

“About a stolen picture? Yes.” Garrus yawned, and Castor fought back one of his own.

“Yup. Aius’ favorite has been stolen. Guess which one.”

“Not the ‘Shepard’- one?” Garrus said innocently.

“What else could make him this agitated,” Castor sighed. “He’s searching every bunk he can get his talons on.”

“If he must,” Garrus shrugged and pulled on his undersuit.

“Another squad member going insane before the war games. Fantastic,” Castor shook his head. “We need to tell Shepard about this too.”

“Do we have to? Can’t we fix this ourselves?”

“Are you going to stop seeing Mevia? Can you draw a nude picture of Shepard for Aius?”

“No, and spirits, no.”

“Then we need to tell Shepard that Four is about to implode.”

“Fine, but I’m not doing it,” Garrus snapped.

“Nirea and me have scheduled a talk after classes today, stop whining. Just so you know, we will tell her everything.”

Garrus winced. “Everything?”

“Everything.”

“Oh..”

“Cut it out. I’ll bet she already know you and our scout are joined at the seams whenever you can, and I doubt she much cares, beyond the effect on Strabo.”

At this, Garrus mandibles drooped. It was too true. She already had a boyfriend. He merely had tension relief.

“So, you’re warned. I’m off to the medical center.” Castor gave Garrus a nudge and left just as Aius returned, waving his arms in the air.

“Have you heard? I’ve been _robbed_! They took her!”

His anguished voice almost made Garrus feel sorry for him. Almost. The images in his head of Aius stroking his plates to that photo made the lies roll easier from his tongue.”

“Those bastards. Can’t trust anybody. You can search my bunk if you want to.”

“I know it’s not you,” Aius barked, “you’re not into humans, but someone else around here are. And when I find him or her, they will feel like they’ve been tread on by a titan! Mark my words!” He disappeared in a flail of talons and curses. In Garrus’ soul, there was a slight uneasiness of how easily he could lie, but it was like Shepard said, they were here to learn to win, not fight fair. And the battle of ownership over the Shepard porn was one he’d already won, if he only kept his mouth shut and his visor private.

 

**2175 CE – April 05 th – Meeting Room – 16:12 PM**

“And that’s about it.” Nirea leaned back and crossed her arms. “What are you going to do about this?”

A small sigh escaped Shepard, and she pinched the bridge of her nose.

“This is.. well.. Let’s start with the easy one. What kind of picture was stolen from Aius?”

“A nude photo from Fornax.” Castor tried to avoid Shepard’s eye.

“A special kind? If he’s this agitated, it must be.”

“It’s, uh, of a human female.”

An unmistakable snort escaped Shepard, even is she tried to conceal it with her sleeve.

“That’s very.. Aius.”

A smile forced its way to her face and she was soon grinning from ear to ear, and both Castor and Nirea started to chuckle. The whole thing devolved into loud belly laughs from all three. Finally, Shepard gathered herself enough to speak coherently.

“We’ll help him look for it, but finding a single smutty photo on a station full of horny teens.. Like the proverbial needle in a haystack. Have any of you seen it?”

Castor and Nirea shook their heads vigorously.

“Too bad. Ask Aius to come see me before dinner so he can describe it to me. Will make it easier to ask around.”

Shepard frowned when she heard wild giggling from the two turians. She shrugged. It would doubtlessly be embarrassing to Aius, but so what. If he really wanted her to help, that was the only way.

“Okay, the big problem, Strabo’s meltdown. Is this normal for turians?”

“For a turian in love, yes. They’re not bonded, so it’s not like that for Mevia,” Nirea said.

“Guys, I know you mean well, but I really can’t get involved with a love triangle like this, it will have to sort its way out naturally. I can’t tell Mevia to dump Garrus and go back to Strabo, no matter how much it hurts for him.”

“I feared you’d say that. You know how much this strains our entire group?”

“Yes, and it’s why humans have rules against fraternization among troops. Turians are supposed to be more lenient and easygoing in these matters.”

“Shepard, really. We have feelings too, and sometimes we care for someone that doesn’t care for us. It still fucking _hurts_.” Castor gave her a frustrated look.

“I.. You’re right, Castor. I shouldn’t have presumed. But I can’t do anything about this. Think of it as a trial, how to cope when a squad has internal structural failings.”

“It will get worse,” Nirea interjected. “Mevia is not in love with Garrus either.”

“So she likes to keep things casual. Nothing wrong with that.”

“And if I said she’s in love with someone else, and this will probably cause Garrus to become like Strabo?”

“Gods, nooo...” Shepard slapped her palm to her forehead.

“I don’t know how many gods you mean to summon, but you need to sort this out, now,” Castor said sarcastically. “Unless you want your friend Emerus Victus to flatten us at the war games.”

“Don’t appeal to my competitive nature, buddy, because it works too well.”

Shepard paced the length of the room a few times.

“You are the squad leader of Four, Shepard. Turian soldiers will expect you to be direct in these matters. No matter how indelicate you think it might be.”

“Indelicate is just the first word. Fine, I’ll have a word with her.”

“How soon?” Nirea pressed.

“For the love of.. Today, all right? Today.”

“Great. We’ve asked her to come here. She should be here in 10 minutes.”

“You what?!”

“We knew you would see reason. Catch you later, Shepard.”

Castor and Nirea hurriedly ran out of the room before she could protest.

“Cowards!” she called after them, to no other answer than the sound of running feet.

“Turians..”

 

“Hey, Shepard,” Mevia said as she strolled in. “Got a message to meet you here.”

“Uh, yes. We have to talk about the cohesion of the group.”

Shepard could see that Mevia became defensive at once. Damn.

“Please sit down. You’re not under attack here, Mevia. I don’t think you’ve done anything wrong.”

“But?” Mevia asked with narrow eyes.

“But Strabo is hurting, and he's lashing out at Garrus. I’m not saying that’s your fault. It is what it is. And we have to deal with it, for his sake and the team.”

Shepard leaned back in her chair and kept her face neutral. Her scout wasn’t stupid, but maybe a little short sighted in this circumstances. All she could do was wait for Mevia’s reply. The recon scout twisted on her chair and flicked her mandibles irritably.

“What you’re saying, is.. it’s.. I know about Strabo, okay? I know he was starting to have feelings for me, and I wanted to put a stop to that.”

“By exchanging him with Garrus?” Shepard kept her voice mildly disinterested.

“Well, I.. yes.” Mevia squirmed around in the chair. “In hindsight, it seems pretty cold, but I didn’t know he was this far gone.”

“I see,” Shepard sighed.

“I won’t take him back, and I doubt he’d actually take me back,” Mevia said hurriedly.

“Nobody’s asking you to do that.”

“So why am I here?”

There was no way out but forward, and Shepard decided to jump head first into the whirlpool of potential trouble.

“I’ve been told that Garrus isn’t the one you’re interested in, so we now have the potential of two of our teammates being depressed before the final push to the war games. I’d hoped..” Shepard trailed off, trying to find the right words. Nothing about this was as it should be, but Mevia could handle the truth. No reason to sugarcoat things.

“I expect you to do the right thing. If you’re interested in a third party, then get a move on. Give Garrus the heave-ho so he can have the next months to get his head on straight, and you all can focus on what truly matters to you. Strabo will learn to control his disappointment, as will Garrus, and you will learn not to use others as a mere means to an end. Try for the one you really like, Mevia, not the first available one.”

“What if he doesn’t like me back?” Mevia whispered.

“Better to know right away, yes? It’s better than leading someone on.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Mevia said sadly.

It was the first time Mevia had allowed Shepard to see weakness in her, and it made Shepard unsettled. How the hell was she going to deal with all these confessions? Like she’d done any better lately, what with her kissing turians left and right at the drop of a hat. She had no moral superiority to preach here. Hopefully the need to sort out each and every little problem for everyone on the team would vanish the day she was a captain herself. Shepard pulled herself out of the dreams of a happy future back to the odious present.

“Look, the important thing is where we go from here. I want this team to win, and right now, acting like this, we won’t. Too much emotion on the squad. This is like when I was being a complete and utter bastard to everyone, we wouldn’t have won then either. Do you get where I’m going with this?”

“Not entirely,” Mevia admitted.

“Be honest with yourself. Tell Strabo you’re sorry about how things ended and either stick with Garrus or try to be with the one you truly care for.”

“Is that an order?” Mevia said, slightly defiant.

Shepard chuckled. “No. It’s the best advice I can give you from what I know, and trust me, I know how difficult it can be to apologize even when you know you’re in the wrong. It’s not an order, Mevia, but I expect you to be an upstanding turian and do what’s best for the squad, and yourself. If you have a better solution, then by all means, use it. It’s up to you.”

Mevia sat in her own thoughts for several minutes, tapping her talons on the table. When she looked up at Shepard again, the defiance was gone, replaced by nervousness.

“Can I ask you something? Just between us?”

“Sure.”

“Do you think a human could love a turian?”

Shepard’s expression went blank, her mind racing with every conceivable reason Mevia could possibly have for asking that question. Had Garrus blabbed? Had Mevia seen something? Was she herself being paranoid? Shepard swallowed, followed by hemming and hawing while she tried to think of a reasonable answer. When she could delay no longer, she tried to be as indifferent as possible to the explosive topic at hand.

“I don’t think it’s, ah, impossible, but it would require more work than say, ahem, a normal relationship between two turians. Or three.” She gave Mevia a quick smile.

“Haha, right.”

Mevia sounded relieved, and it struck Shepard that the female turian had feared being ridiculed. She felt a strange kinship with the hesitating scout.

Mevia had more to tell.

“I guess I’ve kind of let on now, but I.. I like a human.”

“Okaaay,” Shepard said slowly. “Care to tell me who, or is that a secret?”

“It’s.. well.. it’s Ivar.”

“Ivar? As in Argyle?!”

“Uh, yeah,” Mevia said, neck flushing blue. “Perhaps this is not such a good idea.”

“The big lummox in our squad? Looks half krogan? You two threaten to beat each other senseless every day!”

“Yes,” Mevia said dreamily. “ He never backs down, always pushing me to do better. I lo -.. I mean, I like that.”

Shepard expelled the air in her lungs as quietly as possible. Her relief would have been obvious to Mevia if the latter weren’t busy fawning over Argyle.

“Right. Well, you rarely win a war if you don’t fight,” Shepard smiled at Mevia. “I think we’re done here.”

“I think we are.” Mevia got up and gave her a friendly smile. “Thanks. I mean it. I should try to get what I want, and tackle problems head on, like you said. I’ll deal with all of them tonight.”

“Oh gods, just don’t make a scandal, I don’t think captain Corinthus’ nerves can take much more.”

“I’ll be as tactful as I can,” Mevia smiled and left.

Shepard was left with a feeling that she should have added some tips about discretion and delicateness, but really, how much worse could this get?

 

**2175 CE – April 05 th – Mess Hall – 19:15 PM**

“I have something to say,” Mevia declared at Four’s table. She had the air of someone that had several things to get off her chest, and was in no mood to be derailed from her task.

Castor and Mevia cast uncertain glances at each others. Aius was still sulking, and Strabo was picking at his food absentmindedly. At his end, Garrus was trying to be neutral and Argyle ignored his friends while wolfing down his pancakes. Mevia was unperturbed by her unwilling audience.

“Strabo, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I went about ending our relationship in the wrong way, and I know that hurt you. Sorry.”

Her jilted lover gaped at her, eyes darting around the room to see if anyone else was hearing this. Mevia had more to say.

“Garrus, I shouldn’t have used you to end things with Strabo, and I don’t think we should continue seeing each other. Sorry.”

Despite his guilty conscience, getting dumped was never pleasant, and Garrus could only nod. On the bright side, the triumphant glare from Strabo told him that their relationship would get better after Strabo was done gloating. He hoped this would be the end of it, but no, Mevia was far from done.

“Now that we've cleared that out of the way, Ivar, you should be my boyfriend.”

Five pairs of turian eyes widened and five set of mandibles slackened, leaving their owners aghast.

Mevia stared at Argyle with a look of both anxiety and determination, and Argyle stared right back, trying to chew down the double decker he’d just stuffed in his mouth. When he finally managed to swallow it, he had only one thing to say;

“Took you long enough, lassie. Lucky I don’t like you for your wits.”

“I’m not stupid, Ivar!” Mevia barked at him.

“Really? Exhibit one and two,” Argyle said and pointed at Strabo and Garrus.

“I.. you.. I’m going to murder you in your sleep, you vile human.”

“Sure you are, sweetie, but at least I’d die in your arms. Now, sit by me and eat your dinner.”

Mevia glowered at him and looked more like she wanted to whack him over the head with her tray, but when he smiled widely at her and winked, she gave in and scooted up beside him.

“Stupid human.”

“Don’t talk to your dearest heart like that, he might cry,” Argyle grinned, before turning to stare at his former rivals.

“You can both of you stop fighting, Mevia’s with me, and that’s how it will be. Anyone so much as thinks of saying racist shit will get pummeled into the dirt.”

“Uh, no.. Wouldn’t dream of it.” Strabo looked like someone had dropped him into an alternate universe, one that made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

“Garrus?” Argyle looked at him expectantly.

“No, I get it. I’m good.”

Garrus glanced over Argyle’s shoulder to Shepard, standing 3 meters away with her food tray and a look of surprise like she’d been slapped in the face with a wet fish. She shook her head in astonishment and went over to her own table, ignoring the buzzing students around them. News were traveling fast around the hall. A human was dating a turian. Shocking. Scandalous. Disgraceful. Enticing. Plate-loosening juicy gossip that would spread on the station like wildfire in the next few hours, and Garrus was glad he wasn’t at the center of it all. All in all, things could be worse for him. He still had his visor.

 

**2175 CE – April 06 th – Weight Room – 21:03 PM**

“I can’t believe that those two get the honor of being the first official human-turian coupling at Gagarin.”

Chellick was spotting for Shepard, but had spent most of the hour whining about the lost glory of being the first mixed couple, and the lack of opportunity to be at least the second. Shepard was straining under a heavy barbell, and sweat was streaming from her temples.

“five.. six… eight..”

“Aren’t you the least bit upset?”

“nine.. ten! Help me rack it.”

Chellick shifted his grip and helped put the weight back on the rack. Shepard grabbed a towel and wiped her face.

“No, I’m not the least bit upset. Know why? Because I don’t need that attention on me, I only need you.” She gave him a playful prod on the waist and smiled. “If we’re quick, we have time for a real shower too.”

Chellick nabbed the towel from her and wiped the bench, shoving her off it in the process.

“And we’re done here.”

“Aren’t you in a hurry?”

“I heard a shameless solicitation for some close human-turian relations from an expert on the subject.”

“Expert now, are you?”

“You rarely complain, and mostly about chafing.”

“True enough,” Shepard said and reached for him, before quickly pulling back. They had company.

“Hi, Miguel. Training alone?”

“Yep. Don’t need help, today is leg day, and I know what I’m doing.”

“Mighty fine legs too,” Shepard grinned, and Miguel blushed.

“You heard the man,” Chellick said, “he doesn’t need help, and we have another appointment.”

“Sure, you two better train hard, I’m catching up on you. Three might still win at the games.”

“In your dreams, Santiago,” Chellick crooned.

“Time will tell,” Miguel grinned and started loading weights on the leg press.

“Later.” Shepard waved at him and pulled Chellick’s sleeve to make him come along.

“You think he can win?” Chellick asked on their walk to the locker room.

“Anything can happen in the field,” Shepard said and wiped more sweat of her face with her shirt.

Neither of them saw the shadowy figure sitting on an alcove above them, waiting and biding its time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots and lots of emotional teens in this chapter, but we are on the precipice of darker times. The happy days are about to come to an end, and school will soon be out for summer. (I love Alice Cooper)  
> For some reason I keep seeing Aius hunkering over the photo and going "Sneaksy little turians, they want the precious."
> 
> If I can get up early tomorrow, maybe I'll be done with one of my three WIP's so I can focus on the remaining two. Three is waaay too much when I have a steady release schedule, and "Problem" was never meant to be longer than 6 or 7 chapters, an Easter project that stretched out beyond its first outline. That happens XD


	35. Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unthinkable happens at Gagarin, and everyone tries to cope with the new situation.

**2175 CE – April 07 th – Mess Hall – 07:06 AM**

Shepard walked stiffly to their usual table and sat down with an expression of utter self pity. In her eagerness to fool around with Chellick, she’d foregone to stretch after her training, and was reaping the reward of her stupidity.

“Looking awkward there, Shep. Bad training?” Emerus smiled.

“Training was fine, forgetting to stretch after my workout was not. Don’t know what could have gotten into me.”

“I know what got into you,” Chellick hummed happily and sat down beside her.

“Shut it,” she hissed as their friends laughed loudly.

“Mmh, make me,” Chellick chuffed and poked her sore biceps. An undignified squeal escaped her, and she glared at him.

“Cruel.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Will you guys give it a rest, the captain is here,” Arista said.

“What have you done this time, Jane?” Chellick gave her another poke.

“I have a watertight alibi, so to speak, whatever this is has nothing to do with me.”

“Watertight, hehehe..”

“Will you two degenerates listen up,” Celsus huffed and turned to face his father.

The captain called for attention, and the small talk quieted down.

“Students, I have something to inform you all. Yesterday, your fellow student and the leader of squad Three, Miguel Santiago had an accident while training. Unfortunately, with the severity of his injuries his life could not be saved. All classes are canceled for today, and there will be a small memorial service in the training field this afternoon. For those of you who knew the young man, you have my deepest sympathies. Dismissed.”

Shepard and Chellick stared at each other.

“We saw him yesterday before he..”

“Gods, if we’d stayed, he might’ve-..”

“Stop it, Jane. It was an accident.”

“A training accident! He didn’t have a spotter..”

“Shep, come on,” Emerus said. “I’ve trained alone many times, you don’t always need one. It’s not your fault.”

“I know, I just.. it feels like it should be.”

“Because we all liked him. Miguel was a nice guy,” Arista said. “We’ll all go to the field later.”

“Of course we will.” Emerus and Celsus nodded.

Shepard leaned over to Chellick.

“While we were fooling around, our friend was dying alone. Decian, I can’t.. It’s not..”

“I know, but we couldn’t have known. It’s just one of those unfortunate things. If we could have helped, we would have.”

“Poor Miguel. He really turned Three around. Didn’t deserve this,” she said sadly.

“No, he didn’t.” Chellick pushed his tray of paste away. “Not feeling hungry anymore. Want to go someplace else?”

“Yeah. Anywhere.”  
All of them walked out, and many other students followed suit. Miguel had been well liked among all of them.

 

Four was assembled in the middle of the field when the memorial commenced. Captain Corinthus gave an eloquent speech about honor, dedication and loyalty, all qualities embodies by their lost comrade. A solemn mood hung over the assembled students, and some of them cried.  
When she arrived, Shepard saw Todd Erikson at the front, looking distressed at Miguel’s passing. The two of them had never seen eye to eye on anything, but she acknowledged him with a short sad smile as she passed, and he nodded back. Now she was standing with her squad, listening to the captain and finding some comfort in their presence. Mevia and Argyle held hands, and neither Strabo nor Garrus seemed to mind. Things had settled between them, and Shepard felt a sting of regret that her team was now functioning again, but would not be competing against Three, like she and Miguel joked they would. At the end of the speech, the loudspeakers sounded a mournful hymn as a last farewell. Shepard felt her chest swell with sorrow, but tears would not come. She felt grieved and hardened at the same time, and in her heart, she knew who to blame. The commander himself was absent from these proceedings, but that came as no surprise to her. He held no love for humans, and a regular recruit would not merit his attendance.  
When the last tones ebbed from the speakers, the crowd began to move. Castor and Strabo walked beside her.

“I’m very sorry for Miguel’s brother,” Castor said. “I heard from my friends at the hospital that he went into a rage when they called him. Apparently Miguel was the last family he had.”

“I can’t even imagine.” Strabo twitched his mandibles. “Now he’s all alone. If anything happened to my family..” He shuddered.

“So, Castor,” Shepard began carefully, “how did he die?”

Castor shuffled uncomfortably. “I’m not supposed to know.”

“Come on, everyone gossips, what’s the scuttlebutt at the hospital? I won’t tell anyone. Please?”

“You can’t tell anyone I told you.”

“I promise.”

“He had a crushed larynx from dropping the barbel while doing bench presses,” Castor said in a low voice. “They say he choked to death very quickly.”

“Bench presses?” Shepard frowned. “He said it was leg day.”

“Perhaps he changed his mind,” Strabo said. “Miguel trained a lot.”

Shepard shook her head. “Yeah, he did. I just don’t want this to be true. Thinking too much today.”

“We all do,” Nirea said behind her.

“Is the brother coming here to pick up the body? I’d like to offer my condolences.”

“No, the body is being shipped back to earth, to the estate of Vido Santiago.”

“Buried in home soil,” Shepard reflected. “Maybe among his ancestors?”

“Tradition is important,” Castor said. “I hope to be buried on Nodacrux.”

“With a space cow,” Aius whispered behind them.”

“Bad jokes? Today, of all days?” Castor cast an offended glance backwards.

Shepard started to chuckle, an embarrassed strange noise in all the solemnity.

“It’s terrible, I know, terrible,” she said while trying to regain some control.

“It’s okay. We get it,” Garrus said from the back of the pack. “You’re not disrespectful, we’re all just.. not ourselves today.”

“Thank you.” Shepard slowed down and Garrus caught up with her.

“How are you feeling? You’ve had more dealings with Miguel than most of Four.”

“I feel bad for his family,” Garrus said earnestly. “And for you. Just because you saw him before he died, it doesn’t make it your fault.”

Shepard glanced at him. “Have you been talking to Decian?”

“I’m not the dead one.”

Another involuntary snort escaped her. “Gods, can I be more disrespectful.”

“It’s stress, I think Miguel would’ve understood. I do,” Garrus said and hesitantly gave her forearm a small pat.

Shepard met his honest blue gaze.

“Thank you Garrus, again. It’s nice to have friends.”

His mandibles flared widely.

“It sure is.”

 

**2175 CE – April 16 th – Doctor Publius’ Office – 16:02 PM**  
“And how are you doing mentally?” Doctor Publius scribbled down more results on his datapad.

“Better, I think. I felt relieved when we sent him home.” Shepard lifted the cotton rag to see if the needle prick had stopped bleeding. Only a small drop seeped from the pin point.

“I’m glad. Conatix has decided to push ahead with the war games, and they will be at the start of June instead of late in the month.”

“What? That’s.. very early. Everyone won’t be ready until then.”

“A death on campus will inevitably cause rescheduling. I don’t think your squad will have any problems.”

“Maybe not, but others will.”

Shepard worried about Celsus’ team. They’d always lagged behind the others, but were at last starting to catch up. A month less to train on, however..

“Yes, well, that’s how it will be. Conatix has informed the parents about the accident, and many of them are clamoring for a return of their children, understandably so.”

“I understand, doctor.”

“Well, that was the last test,” Publius said and flicked his mandibles. “Still stuck with that turian boyfriend of yours.”

“I guess I am.”

“That wasn’t a question, I can see that from the scans and the previous blood samples.”

“Oh.. Uh..”

“And speaking of which, are you leading a sexual revolution on campus?”

“I.. what? Just what are you accusing me of?”

“A while ago, a female turian approached me about ointments and lubrication for the prevention of chafing, among other things.”

_Mevia._

“I see..” Shepard said hesitantly.

“She made it clear in no uncertain terms she was going to have sex with her human boyfriend, and that this was sanctioned by her squad leader.”

“Oh gods..” Shepard groaned.

“The spirits have very little input in these circumstances, I find. Are you actively encouraging this kind of behavior?”

“No! Those two found each other entirely of their own accord. I merely said that a relationship between a human and a turian could probably happen, but it would require a lot of work. That’s all! I was not espousing the sexual component or compatibility between our species.”

“And would it surprise you to know,” Publius said and stared at her, “that this turian was not the only one coming forward with such requests?”

“Fucking hell..”

“Indeed. There is a boom in the human-turian relationships at this station, but I do believe you were the first.” Publius gave her a sarcastic smile. “Congratulations.”

“Damn. How much trouble will Conatix get in if this gets out?”

“It will be a scandal to be sure, but as long as the relationships are consensual, they can shrug it off as teenagers being teenagers, and increased cooperation and understanding between our people. Though, I should imagine some parents will start refusing sending their kids here at all.”

Shepard imagined her own mother’s response to these news and shuddered.

“I can believe that.”

When his patient had left, Publius leaned back and rubbed his crest. His sample size for his project was increasing, and with the added responsibilities that came along with the war games, he simply had no time for his research. This was groundbreaking work, and he again wished that his mentor was available for questions. Perhaps he could send out feelers to discover the good professor’s whereabouts. Publius doubted he was still in the STG, but any company in the galaxy would be looking to headhunt the salarian. The professor himself would be difficult to predict in terms of letting himself get attached to another organization. Still, it couldn’t hurt to make inquiries. His help would be invaluable.

 

**2175 CE – April 22 nd – Biotic Theory Class, Reave – 11:47 AM**

“Shepard, wait a moment.”

She’d almost been out the door when Vyrnnus called out, but there was no escape. Turning back, she saw that the commander was in a good mood. This did not alleviate her fears.

“I hope you’re doing well, even with the loss of your friend taken into consideration?”

Her jaw dropped and she merely stared at him. Since when did Vyrnnus give two credits for her well being?

“I’m doing okay, sir. Miguel’s death was a tragedy, it’s the brother I feel for.”

“Really? How so?” Vyrnnus was trying to be pleasant, and it made her skin crawl.

“Miguel was his only living relative, and now he’s gone. That marks a man.”

“I suppose it does,” Vyrnnus smiled softly. “To break a man’s heart like that, one can only imagine the emotional pain it inflicts. Tragic.”

For all his supposed kind words, Shepard doubted the commander meant a word he said.

“You must have heard, the war games have been shifted a month, so school will end early this year?”  
“I have, sir.”

“Which means your exam will be held shortly before the war games. Usually, the biotics have their exams during the games, but since you’re a participant, you will be first in line.”

“I understand, sir.”

“The regular recruits will be allowed all the equipment suitable to their allotted specializations, and you will be allowed to use biotics if you find yourself at the front line. As a squad leader, however, your role in the games is usually to direct and instruct your squad. And remember, your opponents are now allowed to use overload and concussion shots, so don’t think you can just barge in like you usually do.”

“Yes, sir. I will keep that in mind.”

Vyrnnus studied her intently. For once, Shepard was struck with the thought that he actually wanted her to do well. Something was very wrong here.

“The first part of the exercise are usually with live rounds against local wildlife. I expect you to not get yourself killed.”

“Uhm, yes, sir.”

“And a squad ranking in the top three. Any less, and we will have final parting words.”

Shepard pinched her uniform to stop the familiar tremble.

“I understand, sir.”

“Very good, Shepard. Go, spend some time with your friends, grieve for your lost Miguel. And do give Chellick my regards.” He smiled cruelly and turned to his stack of datapads.

Shepard’s breath hitched in her throat. Vyrnnus gave no other comment, and she backed out of the door slowly. What was he implying? Did he know? She swallowed and tried to calm the internal storm. The commander was no longer trying to get her thrown out, but what did he want? Perhaps Chellick would have an idea. Shepard stopped herself in her tracks. Running directly to her boyfriend after that comment was not the best idea, but there was another turian who knew the truth. Maybe Garrus could offer some advice.

 

**2175 CE – April 22 nd – Shooting Range – 12:38 PM**  
“Garrus, could I have a word?”

Garrus ejected the heatsink and put the rifle he was holding back on the stand.

“Sure.”

“Mind if I take your turn?” Strabo asked.

“Go ahead.”

The two of them tried to get along better these days, and it appeared to be working. Strabo was less angry and Garrus less jittery, but they treated each other like live grenades. One day in the future they might be more comfortable with each other, but for now, it was like this.

“Something on your mind, Shepard?”

To his surprise, she grabbed him by the scruff of his sleeve and pulled him away from the others.

“Something bad,” she said in a low voice. “I have to ask, Garrus, did you tell anyone else about me and Decian?”

“Of course not,” he replied, feeling somewhat offended. “I’d never do that.”

“Hey, sorry. I had to be certain. I think Vyrnnus knows, but I don’t know how.” Shepard rubbed her eyes with one hand and leaned against the wall with the other.

“Have you told anyone?”

“No. I thought nobody knew except my table and you, and since you’re the newest addition to the knowing..”

“It would make sense if I was the one that blabbed,” Garrus finished. “Sound logic, but no, I’m not the culprit.”

“Have you heard any rumors about me and him? Anything at all?” She stared imploringly at him, and Garrus racked his brain, but came up blank.

“Nothing. Every rumor I’ve heard is about Mevia and Argyle, and thin human skin.”

“A little salve will cure that,” Shepard said absentmindedly, and only realized it’d slipped out when Garrus was flaring his mandibles wide open.

“Pffh. Not like that’s a big secret between us,” she chortled.

“Perhaps not, but here’s actual proof. It’s good that you work these things out now, makes it a lot easier for me to slide into Chellick’s place later.” He made a point of turning his head sideways, showing his growing fringe.

“Slide into-.. Gods, you’re worse than Aius, and that’s saying something,” Shepard laughed.

It was the first time in two weeks Garrus saw her smile without a shadow behind her eyes, and he loved that he could make her laugh, even if he was serious under all his bluster. One day he would oust Chellick from her bed. One day, but sadly not today.

“Thank you, Garrus. For keeping my secret and making me smile. It’s been a while.”

“No problem.”

Shepard pushed of the wall and beckoned him to follow her back to the others. As he passed her towards the gun rack, she said something in a low voice that made his heart skip a beat.

“And I have noticed your fringe coming along nicely, Garrus. Looks both stately and handsome.”

He spun around to see if she was messing with him, but was met with a warm smile. His talons twitched and he found no answer to her compliments.

“Uh, mhm,” he mumbled and fled into the firing booth, neck burning deep blue. He hoisted the rifle to his shoulder and took aim. ‘Stately and handsome.’ His talon twitched again, and the rifle spat a single bullet towards the target.

‘Vakarian, score 4,’ the small speaker announced.

“Hey Garrus, are you ill,” Aius hollered gleefully. “Usually it’s 10 for every shot.”

“Misfire,” he called back to his snickering friend.

“Looks like I’ll win this one. Calm and steady does it.”

“Hey Aius, did you ever recover your ‘special’ picture,” Garrus asked in an innocent and loud voice.

A shot rang out from Aius’ booth.

‘Uticensis, score 2,’ the loudspeaker announced.

“Vakarian, you foul fiend! You did that on purpose!”

“Who, me?”

“Stop it, you two,” Shepard called out. “Aius, come see me afterwards, I’ll help you ask around for that damn photo.”

Inside his booth, Garrus tried to stifle his chuffing laugh. Aius on the other hand was floundering, trying to find a way out of his predicament.

“Uuh, that’s okay, it’s just a silly photo, really. You have better things to do than search for missing Fornax pages.”

“Apparently not, since it takes that little to set you off. Come see me, that’s an order.”

“But.. but.. but...” Aius was on the verge of a breakdown.

“I’ll help him,” Nirea said and checked her own pistol. “Don’t worry about it, Shepard. Aius, Strabo and I will fix this.”

“We will?” Strabo said with a confused look.

“Yes!” Nirea gave him a pointed stare.

“Is this a turian thing? Please don’t tell me it is.” Shepard asked while rubbing her eyes.

Nirea elbowed Strabo in his ribs.

“Ouch! Very turian. We’ll use it as a team building exercise, okay? No need for you to get involved.”  
Shepard gave all of them a suspicious glance before relenting. “Okay, Strabo. I trust your word.”

When she walked past them over to Mevia and Castor’s booths, Strabo glared at Nirea.

“Look what you did! I just lied to Shepard. If she finds out, she’ll not trust me at my word again.”

“You didn’t lie, this is a turian thing.” She knocked on Aius’ booth. “A very disturbed and deviant turian thing. And he will get over it very soon, or else...”

“Fine,” Aius grumbled inside. “Garrus started it.”

“Did not!”

“Stop it, or I’ll shoot you both right where you stand,” Strabo barked. “One of you with a bit more pleasure than the other.”

“Now you sound like Shepard.” Aius’ voice was glum.

Garrus stepped out of the small cubicle and saw Strabo trying to hide a proud smile. Good, he thought. Another step in the right direction for Strabo’s emotional recovery.

 

**2175 CE – May 02 nd – Common Rooms – 20:01 PM**  
Garrus sat by himself at a small table and sketched the familiar faces of Four. The war games were fast approaching, and this was their last month together with Shepard. The overhanging feeling of imminent loss was looming over him like a wet blanket, and he wanted to do something for her before she left. A memento she’d remember him by, but there was nothing to buy at the station that was remotely suitable, and so he’d decided to use a skill that almost no one knew about, his artistic streak. Garrus had tried several scenarios, all of them gathered in a charge, or an overview of the field exam, stills of all their faces, but he wasn’t satisfied with any of it. The one image he wanted to have was Shepard herself floating in a biotic force field, but for the rest of Four...nothing. Spirits, he wanted to bang his crest on the table.

“What are you doing here by yourself?” Castor said and joined him on the opposite side.

“Nothing,” Garrus mumbled.

“Hey, are you drawing? Let me see.” Before he could react, Castor had pilfered several sheets and glanced at them.

“Wait, no.”

“Wow, these are pretty good. Why are there so many of.. Oh..” Castor said darkly. He shot Garrus a knowing look.

“It’s nothing,” Garrus muttered.

“I think I know where Aius’ picture went.” Castor gave a devilish grin.

“Please, Castor, don’t tell anyone. I don’t want anybody to know.”

“Don’t know why, I’ve seen a few human-turian couples now after Mevia and Argyle went official.”

“Shepard is a Shepard,” Garrus whispered. “And I’m a Vakarian. It’s a bad idea.”

“But if you had the chance to indulge in said bad idea?” Castor smiled.

“Then scandal be damned. She’d be mine in an instant.”

Castor chuckled. “Well, since you’re honest with me, I suppose it’s only fair I’m honest with you. I’m not at all shocked regarding inter-species relationships. I quite favor them.”

Garrus raised a brow plate, and Castor leaned closer.

“I have a salarian boyfriend. He’s on the Citadel now, and I will see him again in a short month.”

“A salarian? How do you..? Or do you at all..?” Garrus cut himself off and looked away. “I shouldn’t pry.”

“Yes, very carefully, rarely. That’s all I’m willing to say.” Castor hummed.

“And you’re happy? With someone that different from you?”

“Very happy, even when he talks a great deal, and he does that all the time. I always knew it would be different, but I can’t imagine dating anyone but my little chatterbox. Even if salarians has a shorter lifespan, I would share as much as I can with him.”

“And your family?” Garrus was stunned at this information. Asari and humans were rather similar, but a salarian?

“Would be furious. That’s fine, it’s my choice. I’ll do my duty for the Hierarchy, but my love life is my own.”

“Wow..” Garrus said and stared blankly at the floor.

“Finish your drawing, Garrus. Give her something to remember you by. Better yet, all of us.” He rose and patted Garrus on the cowl.

“For what it’s worth, I think Shepard likes you, despite all your earlier problems.”

“Yeah? Thanks.” Garrus gave him a grateful smile.

“Keep at it,” Castor said. “You have one month left to make an impression.”

Garrus stared at the unfinished drawings when Castor was gone. One month. He still had time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end. About one month left on Gagarin, and after that we'll jump ahead a few months and years while still keeping track on our protagonists :) Time to follow Shepard's burgeoning military career as she becomes the commander she's meant to be.  
> A little more than the usual breadcrumbs this chapter XD
> 
> This chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but real life have caught up with me and we have some illness in the family that demands attention. I'll still try to write, since it provides me with some catharsis, but I might be a little late in the next few week with my releases. Hope you guys understand.


	36. Old friend of the family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard has her exam, and Vyrnnus' plans comes closer to fruition.

**2175 CE – May 10 th – Armax Simulator – 13:13 PM**

“Do you see them?” Shepard called over the comms. She was hunched down behind a stone formation, goal in sight, but not one opponent in view. That in itself was deeply suspicious.

“Not one,” Garrus answered back. “Why don’t you give them a target?”

“Hah, you want to use me as bait? Not sure I like that idea.”

“Do you have a better one ?”

Shepard heard on his snide reply that he was smiling.

“Not really. They’re well concealed, and we’re only two.”

“Make a run for it and don’t get shot. I got your six.”

“How reassuring.”

“No backtalk from the bait, please.”

“Oh, you’ll pay for that later, Vakarian.”

Shepard got up and prepared to make a mad dash for the next cover. While Garrus was undoubtedly the best shot on her team, Mevia was not far behind, and she was aided and abetted by the remaining Four except from Strabo, who was in the observer’s booth. They had begged her to try this infiltrator scenario for a week, and she’d at last given in. Garrus had volunteered to be the second on her team and right now she was very grateful for that. The sniper had an excellent overview of the battlefield from his hiding spot, and he would spot any movement that weren’t her if it was out there. Another couple of deep breaths and she was away. Running at full speed while hunkering down as best she could was awkward, but presenting the enemy with too much of a target was the other, and infinitely worse choice. Shepard heard one projectile pass closely over her head, and another cast dirt around her feet. The thought of getting shot made her speed up, practically diving for cover behind a small burned out vehicle. Her run came to a sudden stop when she smashed her shoulder into the iron.

“Aw, fuck. Did you see anything?”

Ten seconds of silence passed, then a shot rang out from her side.

“Did you get anyone?” Shepard called again, to more silence. She wriggled into a more comfortable position to wait out Garrus’ self imposed radio silence.

A second shot echoed between the buildings, and Shepard hoped it meant that her partner was mopping up the opposition. If they were now worried about Garrus picking them off one by one, she could try for another approach on the target. Shepard broke from cover and made for the next building, legs moving like drumsticks. Scattered salvos of gunfire followed her, broken only by single shots from above. Garrus was taking his duty seriously, whenever she revealed the enemy position, he soon fired as many shots as possible before the rifle overheated. If only the little sneak would tell her how many he’d managed to get, if any. She was 15 meters from the target, and would rather not fight three or four people in close quarter combat through the building, not without her biotics.

“Garrus, are you there?”

Still no reply, and she wanted to kick his butt. The window was slightly ajar, but Shepard knew better than to force it open without checking first. She pulled out a flexible mirror rod and carefully inserted it in the small gap between the pane and the window. Sure enough, on the other side was a grenade, secured to the frame with a piece of wire. This being Mevia’s doing, Shepard rolled the rod around and inspected the other side. A second grenade, this time on a proximity sensor. Clever girl.

She retracted the mirror and looked around for a second entry point. There was no obvious place, but there was a drain pipe leading up to the roof. It looked solid enough, Shepard thought and gave the pipe a few testing pulls. No creaks or hinges giving way. After re-positioning her rifle to not be in the way, she started the ascent. The area had gone unnaturally quiet, and no word yet from her sniper. Hopefully, he’d not been ambushed, but it was of little matter. If she could only reach their objective, the match was won, regardless of death toll.

Very quietly she moved across the tiles of the roof, until she came across a caved in area with three broken beams and cracked tiles. Afraid that the debris might give off sound, she got down on her stomach and crawled towards the hole. From her position, she could see Mevia below, scouring the horizon for either her or Garrus through the scope. Shepard could not see anyone else in the room, but decided to ambush Mevia silently, as to not tip off any other enemies in the area. With extreme care, she slid between the broken beams and landed with an almost inaudible thud right behind Mevia, knife out and jammed it in her neck. Mevia gave a small shriek at the cold blunt knife pressed against her sensitive hide, and pulled the trigger accidentally.

“Dammit, Shepard,” she hissed and threw her arms in the air.

Shepard grinned silently, when a change in the air made her throw herself to the side as a rifle spat three bullets in rapid succession at the position where she'd stood mere seconds ago. She pulled her gun out of it’s holster and fired blindly over the overturned table she’d hid behind, but knew the thin wood would not keep out the next bullets from her enemy. The need to throw a reave made her hand shake, but another single shot rang out from the outside.

“Scoped and dropped,” Garrus’ cheerful voice announced over the comms. “You can stop hiding now, bait. I’ve done most of the work.”

“Next time,” Shepard said, pretending to be stern, “you can do the running and ‘I’ll show you how a biotics master clears a field.”

“Master, is it?” he called back laughing.

“I’ll prove it at my exam, and you’ll all bow down before me.” Shepard walked over to Mevia and gave her a hand. The scout had hid so as not to get shot by her accomplice, who turned out to be none other than Castor.

“Almost had you,” he said and shrugged.

“That you did,” she smiled and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Next time, eh?”

“Next time for sure,” he agreed smilingly.

“Next time Garrus can’t be on your team,” Mevia said. “It’s not fair.”

“Aw, sore looooser, are we?” Garrus announced over the comms.

“Vakarian, I warn you...”

“All right, all right. The program is over, and I’ve promised Celsus we’d run against his team on the obstacle course. Let’s get the rest of our corpses and get over there.”

The sniper-killed parts of Four protested the moniker, but they were all in high spirits when they left the simulator.

 

**2175 CE – May 20 th – Class Room – 15:03 PM**

“So, the war games will consist of two parts. The first will be clearing an area of dangerous wildlife for settlement.”

Nirea raised her hand.

“What kind of wildlife?”

“Some unknown idiots has released wild nathaks on Eden Prime, and we have been given permission to use their extermination as part of the final exam.”

“Sounds harsh,” Castor said.

Shepard gave him a small nod.

“Maybe, but they’re not native to the planet, and since they’re apex predators, they might ruin the entire Eco system. They belong on Noveria, but I doubt Conatix will pay for their repatriation.”

“So what’s the second part?” Aius asked.

“Depending on how well we dispose of the nathaks, we’ll earn a position of defending or attacking in the real war games. The second part will naturally not have live rounds, unlike the first. We’ll be returning to our starting point and getting refitted with sim-armor and exchanging weapons before deploying to the last exam.”

“Too bad, would’ve been interesting,” Aius quipped.

“It would not! How can you even think that? Shooting at our friends!” Nirea glowered at him.

“Hey, hey, I was only kidding!”

Aius backpedaled and tried to look contrite, but Nirea wasn’t entirely convinced. She kept an eye on him and crossed her arms.

“Which is the better position, to attack or to defend?” Garrus said, looking at the datapad in front of him.

“It appears like the attackers will have to crawl through a kilometer long swamp while in full camouflage.” Shepard grinned when she saw the collective wince of Four. “The squads will be divided into three large battlefields, one for every marshland available on that part of Eden Prime. The defenders will set up an entrenchment and keep it from being overrun. Lots of sniper activity on either side.”

Garrus and Mevia grinned madly.

“And what’s more, we’ll have a special guest. The Hierarchy is sending a special envoy to observe the war games.”

The turians on her team gasped.

“Yep. Now’s your chance to stand out, maybe get a post of your choosing.”

“Spirits, that’s.. do they say who?” Castor said eagerly.

“Nope, not a word. Sadly, Commander Vyrnnus has offered to be his envoy, so I’ll have to suffer his presence at the games as well, but for you guys at least, this could be good.”

“Envoy of the Hierarchy,” Argyle shrugged. “What’s the big deal. Would’ve been better if Alliance brass sent somebody.”

“What? You-.. It’s the _Hierarchy_?” Mevia looked scandalized.

“So? I don’t care about that.”

Mevia looked ready to strangle Argyle, until he added;

“You’re the only turian who’s orders I’d obey.”

“Oh.. I..” Mevia stuttered and her neck flushed blue.

“Please, I just ate a nutri-bar,” Aius said and pretended to gag.

“The primarchess of my heart,” Argyle continued to Mevia’s mortification and Four’s laughing.

“My little plated bundle of love,” he went on, and Mevia regained some agency and smacked him over the head with her datapad.

“Stop it!”

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but my love is eternal,” Argyle declared with a broad smile, and his girlfriend was torn between hitting him again and letting the shameless flattery win her over. To Four's surprise, the latter won out.

“Oh, stop it, I love you too.”

“Gods, stop it, both of you. We need to make war, not love.” Shepard turned to the holo-screen and continued her briefing, soundly ignoring the snickering and sounds of cowl slaps behind her.

“You’ve been given maps of all three areas. I want you to think about fortifications and points of attack for all three places. We won’t be given the location of the nathak dens before we arrive, they’re nomads, straying from area to area. We’ll be flying by the seat of our pants for the first part, and do what we’ve trained for in the second part. Any questions?” She turned back and looked over Four.

“Yeah, I got one,” Aius said. “When’s your biotic exam, and can we come watch?”

“Ah, now that’s not really standard,” Shepard began, but Aius was quickly joined by other voices.

“That would be so cool.”

“Yeah, come on!”

“Don’t be a wimp, Shepard!”

“Yeah, we’ve seen you fuck up before.”

Shepard grinned and shook her head.

“Okay, okay, bunch of mutineers, I’ll ask, all right? Can’t say fairer than that.”

“This is going to be great,” Argyle exclaimed and jumped up from his seat. “The other squads are going to be green with envy.”

“I can’t guarantee you’ll be allowed,” Shepard tried to warn them, to no avail. Four were dead set upon coming to see her exam, and she could see how that might be fair. After all, she’d been a part of all their exams, the least she could do was to ask if they could be present at hers. Even if that meant asking a favor from the dreaded commander.

 

**2175 CE – May 29 th – Early Biotic Exam for Shepard – 09:02 AM**

The little camera was at last set up, but Commander Vyrnnus was far from happy. The promised envoy the councilor had not manifested, and he feared his plans were going up in smoke. On the observer’s balcony beside him those annoying brats from Shepard’s squad were laughing and smiling, and he wondered what had possessed him to allow their presence. Perhaps it was the hope that his little protegee would double her effort to do a good showing. And now the whole thing was ruined. Vyrnnus slammed his fist into the rail, and the people in the neighbor balconies startled. From behind, a familiar and most unwelcome voice laughed.

“Despan Vyrnnus. I see you’ve managed to crawl out from under the rock you’ve been hiding these last years.”

The hard sounds of the speech were accompanied by small clicks from the prosthetic grafted into the speaker’s face. Vyrnnus would’ve recognized the voice even with out the clicking. He clamped his mandibles to his face and swung around.

“Saren Arterius. Such a _pleasure_ to see you here.” The commander could not keep the acid from his voice.

“I see you are overflowing with joy,” the other barefaced turian replied and hitched up his mangled mandibles in a cruel grin. “But you did send for me.”

“Not you, any observer would do,” Vyrnnus snapped.

“And now I’m here, to observe,” Saren said with amused scorn. “Nothing wrong with my eyes, even if I’m not as handsome as I used to be.”

“Asari were never fastidious in their choosing of a mate,” Vyrnnus scoffed. “Still with the old hag?”

“My lady Benezia is in excellent health, thank you,” Saren replied. “I will tell her you asked about her.”

“Please do,” Vyrnnus said sourly.

“Come now, let bygones be bygones. It’s been, what? Almost twenty years?”

Vyrnnus stared at Saren with a deadly hatred.

“You got me expelled.”

“You were selling Hierarchy heatsinks to a pack of thugs.”

“I was cultivating connections.”

“You were exploiting the system." Saren's voice was as cold as Noveria. “Do not think me ignorant of what you did after getting booted out of Spectre-training. Imagine my surprise to find you here, an illegal biotic working for the humans.”

Vyrnnus reigned in his intense resentment. He could work with this. And if Saren was this vengeful after twenty years, he could redirect his anger to another.

“The councilor and I will work something out on that front,” he said smoothly. “How about I introduce you to the one you’ve come to observe?”

“Some arbitrary human with a smidgen of talent, no doubt,” Saren sighed and turned to face the field. Vyrnnus noted that the balcony with Shepard’s squad had gone completely silent, and merely stared at the Spectre. Hero-worshiping little morons.

“You should be familiar with the family. Ah, there she comes.” He pointed at a figure coming onto the field. Saren flicked a mandible, staring at the girl like he was remembering somebody.

“One human is much like another, but this one looks familiar,” he said. “Anyone I should know?”

“Yes,” Vyrnnus smiled and saw Shepard get ready on the field. “Jane Shepard, daughter of the infamous Hannah Shepard, rear admiral, stationed on the Orizaba. I believe you’ve met?”

He heard Saren exhale heavily, then the other turian turned to stare at him.

“Are you trying to anger me, Despan?”

“As I said, I never invited you, Saren,” Vyrnnus replied, still smiling, “but the humans are a growing problem. They produce biotics at an alarming rate, and their power levels are steadily increasing, as you will see.”

“Shepard,” Saren said under his breath and subconsciously stroked a metallic mandible. He leaned forward on the railing, eyes fixed on the human on the field.

Vyrnnus gave a satisfied hum and sent a message to the operator below to start the exam. A bell chimed from a loudspeaker, and Shepard broke into a run. Her squad gave up their attempt to swallow the Spectre with their eyes and turned their attention to their leader.

Shepard was running through a barrage of biotic attacks, deflecting them easily and taking out the attackers one by one. Vyrnnus’ face twisted in a vicious grin when the opponent shrieked in terror as they were lifted of pulled into the air. This was child’s play for Shepard, he’d made sure of that. Nothing but a direct reave or several consecutive direct biotic hits could break her shield now. Saren cocked his head and looked on with furrowed brow plates. The commander suspected he was unhappy to see a member of the Shepards excel in any field, but her squad was cheering loudly. Vyrnnus was tempted to throw them out, but decided against it.

The next part of the exam was offensive, but Vyrnnus didn’t worry about Shepard. Instead he scrutinized the Spectre, trying to detect any ulterior motive for his presence. If Saren somehow was here on his account, that news would not be favorably received by his boss, but this could also be an unfortunate coincidence, and he would not be so foolish as to ruin everything by acting strange. Saren, however, seemed utterly disinterested in the commander, but kept his eyes on the human female on the field. Shepard was now tearing her way through a maze, not dissimilar to the ones Vyrnnus had made her run through again and again, regardless of injuries and often hobbled by biotic inhibitors. Today she was unleashed in full force, and she ripped the contraptions apart, progressing through the maze like a purple spirit of fury. Vyrnnus enjoyed Saren’s discomfort at seeing the human’s show of power, and he noted that the Spectre made notes on his omni-tool. On their balcony, squad Four was pointing and cheering, and Vyrnnus saw Saren’s surprise at this. All those shouting turians and a single human, encouraging a member of a known turian hating family? The Spectre made more notes.

Shepard emerged on the last third of the exam, stepping out on a field littered with debris, facing a dozen flying drones. Saren straightened up and looked satisfied . This was one of the most difficult test a biotic had to face, to defend themselves via object manipulation. Shepard’s squad started to whoop and shout even more loudly, and one of squad members were clearly filming the exam on his visor. Saren turned to Vyrnnus and nodded towards the other balcony.

“Are they aware of what will happen?”

“Oh, I think they are,” Vyrnnus smiled, recalling a certain ball theft in Shepard’s first year.

Sure enough, Shepard stretched out her arms and embroiled herself in a biotic eddy of debris, traversing the field with apparent ease. When the attacking drones dived into the hailstorm, they were instantly crushed by the swerving junk that surrounded her. Saren stared in amazement, and Vyrnnus leaned on the wall, looking smug.

When only one drone remained, Shepard dropped the debris save for one plank, and used a biotic throw to smash the lonely drone on its attack vector, before running in to a record time. She turned to wave at her squad, but Vyrnnus saw her discretely wiped blood from her nose before doing so. No matter how strong she was, that display would come with a price, a thundering headache that would probably last an entire day. Tomorrow was a day for transport anyway, the exam would not start until the first of June, and he dismissed the thought and turned to Saren.

“Well?”

“That was.. impressive,” the Spectre said quietly. “But I seem to remember some of those contraptions from my own training. And yours.” He gave the commander a penetrating stare. “Seems like you’re training the very enemies of the Hierarchy you’re so concerned about up to our standard.”

Vyrnnus laid his mandibles in neutral position. That had always been the problem with Saren, too cunning for his own good.

“Part of Conatix curriculum. I’m sure _someone_ ,” he emphasized the word, “can discover where they get much of their information from, if an agreement can be reached.”

“Indeed,” Saren said. “I’m sure someone has thought of almost everything.”

Twenty years ago, Vyrnnus might’ve been intimidated by Saren’s reputation. Now, he knew others of equal vitriol and cruelty.

“We understand each other perfectly then. Care for a guided tour of the station? The transport ships won’t leave until tomorrow.”

“How can I refuse such heartfelt hospitality,” Saren replied with utmost civility.

Vyrnnus smiled and tried to usher the Spectre outside, but Saren refused to walk in front of him, stating it would be impolite, and since the commander was the guide, he should surely lead the way. Vyrnnus had the distinct feeling the Spectre was worried he might get shot in the back, and smiled to himself. Not today, but some day, maybe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the shortest chapters I've done, but the combination of overtime and an impending death in the family makes writing take a backseat until things calm down. Still, I hope it's enjoyable, even if I can't promise a regular day for updates right now.
> 
> Next chapter will contain the celebration of Shepard's exam, which was intended to be part of this chapter, and the war games and its aftermath. Big things to come :D


	37. Moments in between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Squad Four has a short interlude before the war games, bonding and showing trust before the big day.

**2175 CE – May 29 th – Common Rooms – 14:32 PM**

“How’s your head, Shepard?” Castor held out a bottle of water and two pills. “Lucky I know a guy in medbay, you’re supposed to wait another hour for more pills.”

Shepard gave him a grateful smile and swallowed the pills and half the water.

“Helps to have friends. My amp feels like it’s on fire, slowly burning out.”

“Burning out is good,” Aius said. “You’ve promised us a poker night if you did well, and you better keep your word. I already got the juice boxes.”

“What, no alcohol? Slipping in your old age.”

“Shepard, please,” Mevia bristled. “Tomorrow we’re shipping out at noon, no time to be nursing a hangover, not to mention stealing alcohol.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Shepard waved a defeated hand. “Just thought it would be fun, you know. All of us getting drunk off our asses together.”

“Some day in the future,” Garrus mumbled and kept fiddling with a note book.

 

“Hey, Fours! Plan on wasting an entire day on your asses, or would you try and offer up some real competition?”

The challenge came from Emerus, standing tall and proud among four of his turian teammates.

“Seven is running late, so we need another opponent for a round of clawball.”

“Clawball?” Shepard shouted back. “Isn’t that the game where all the players are malingerers, pretending to get injured and lay down and cry every other minute?” She winced as her amp gave another protest sting at being misused earlier.

“Shepard!” Nirea gave her a _look_. “Clawball is a turian _phenomenon!_ The best players are revered on all colonies.”

“Never seen it,” Shepard shrugged.

“What? Simply unacceptable,” Strabo grinned. “Fours, are we up for it?”

“Not me,” Argyle said. “The only sport I like involves shooting at tings.”

“Humans.” Mevia gave him a shove. “I say we kick Victus in the plates and show Shepard and this moron here,” she gave Argyle’s hair a ruffle, “how it’s done.”

“Six on six?” Garrus called to Emerus.

“We’re only five, but if you feel you need the handicap,” he called back.

“I’ll sit this one out,” Nirea said. “Never did like to play myself, but I love to watch. I adore the Raescir Rockets. Neni Raxirian is a legend!”

Squad Four including Shepard turned to grin at Nirea’s uncharacteristic gushing.

“What? He is! Shining tawny plates, purple colony markings and a wicked curve ball. He’s gorgeous!”

“Ooh, we have a fan girl here,” Aius snickered.

“You’re just upset you’re not as handsome,” Nirea snapped.

“So are we playing or what?” Emerus shouted.

“It’s on, Victus!” Garrus called back.

“Going down!” Mevia added.

“Gods, less shouting and more ball play,” Shepard groaned and clambered to her feet.

Garrus materialized by her side and offered his arm. She gratefully latched on him, and he supported her all the way to the outdoor court.

“Thank you, Garrus. I’ve heard you’re a decent player? Any truth to the rumor?”

“You’ll see shortly,” he said with a haughty air, and she chuckled and sat down.

“Aw, damn, we forgot the tags,” Emerus said. “Anyone going to run back for them?”

“How about shirts and skins,” Shepard called down from the bleachers, to another protest of her amp.

“What? Play without clothes?” Emerus looked suspicious. “You’re a perv, Shep!” He turned to get support from the other turians, but Aius and Garrus were already tearing their Conatix tunics off, trying to show as much spilling muscle as possible while doing so. Castor sighed and started taking off his shirt as well, and Mevia and Strabo merely laughed as they removed theirs.

“What the hell, Shepard!” Argyle said with pretend anger. “Now the entire school can gawk at my girlfriend, thanks a lot.”

“Huh? We have coed showers, we can gawk at anyone if we were so inclined.”

“It’s the principle of the thing.”

“Sure, fine. Sorry for making everyone ogle Mevia,” Shepard said and did a sitting curtsy.

Meanwhile, Aius was pretending to stretch, making sure everyone on the bleachers got an eyeful of his rippling muscles and newly buffed plates.

“Wow,” Nirea breathed. “I’ve never noticed that before.”

“That’s all it took? Give the boy a ball, and you’re already forgot Celsus?” Shepard teased.

“What? Never! I’d never date the deviant,” Nirea protested. “But he does look nice. Very nice, in fact.”

Shepard didn’t reply, but looking at the two turians showboating on the field, she had to agree. Both Aius and Garrus were fine specimens. A pair of hands were suddenly placed over her eyes, and Chellick’s voice whispered behind her.

“I came with water for my girl, and find her mesmerized by two small fledglings. For shame, Jane.”

Shepard laughed and pulled his arms away, giving him a quick rub and patted the seat next to her. “Watch the game with me. I’ve never seen clawball before.”

“Really? Shepard, what’s wrong with you.”

“Yeah yeah, I already got that speech, so zip it,” she said as he slid down beside her. “Explain the rules.”

“Each team need to score by throwing the ball into the other team’s goal. Bouncing and passing the ball is allowed, kicking is not. Tackles are allowed. Ripping the ball from your opponent likewise. The trick is to make the ball spin when you throw, a good player can change the balls trajectory depending on his or her talon technique. Anyone can pass the ball, making the ball do what you want takes talent.”

Shepard cheered Four on as they took position for the face off. Garrus stood to face Emerus for the ball, and it was clear that the older turian had no respect for the first-year.

“Emerus got this in the bag,” Chellick whispered.

“I call this one for Garrus,” Shepard smiled. “He’s rarely this cocky without good reason.”

A turian from One had volunteered to be the referee, and he tossed the oblong ball in the air. To everyone’s surprise, Garrus soared up like a swan, swatting Emerus away before smacking the ball over to Strabo. Four used Emerus shock at being outplayed by a first-year to steamroll his team and Castor scored the first goal of the game.

Shepard applauded like mad, and Chellick grudgingly admitted that it had been a good play. Emerus rebounded with a goal of his own, but after that it was Four’s game all the way. Garrus was everywhere, assisting steals and scores, and making a deadly duo with Castor, the latter being able to sneak past almost every opposing player while Mevia and Aius tackled everyone in their path. Strabo was an all-rounder, strategically placed when Four needed an opening.

Shepard found herself immersed in the game until she glanced the expression on Argyle’s face. She whispered something to Chellick and he nodded and remained in her seat as she moved to sit next to the melancholy boy.

“Hey, whats’ wrong? Still mad about Mevia’s shirt?”

“Huh? No, it’s not that, I just.. I love her, you know. Despite the chafing.”

“I think everyone knows,” Shepard smiled as Garrus scored another goal. She gave him a thumbs up as he ran past.

“And she says she loves me, but..” He hesitated.

“Go on.”

“We’re leaving soon for summer break, and she’s not sure if she wants a long distance relationship.”

“Oh.” Shepard paused. That was something that loomed over her future too.

“Yeah, so.. She says I might meet someone else, or she might. Turians have two years of mandatory service to the Hierarchy after boot and she’s going into the military, while I have to go into another boot camp for the navy. Like you. Even if we have another year here, I think she's having second thoughts.”

Shepard was struck with how similar their situations were, and glanced back at Chellick, who tried to make it look like he wasn’t eavesdropping.

“Have you told her what you want?”

Shepard winced as Aius brutally tackled Emerus to the ground.

“No, I wanted to let her decide.”

Shepard gave him a gentle slap in the back of the head. “Dunce. Now she might think you don’t care either way.”

“She wouldn't think that,” Argyle said slowly. “I think.”

“I’m beginning to understand why she wants to strangle you all the time. Look, just tell her that you want to be with her even if you have to be apart for a while, but you’ll understand if she won’t.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. Then she’ll know what you want, but you’re still letting her decide. And you can use the summer as a test run. See if you can't make it work.”

“Right..” Argyle said beamed at her. “Thanks.”

“No prob. I got advice for every occasion. For the chafing, I recommend a combination of AloV-smooth for you and plate paste for Mevia.”

Shepard got up and went back to her seat by Chellick, and smiled at Argyle’s slack-jawed stare. Cogs in his brain was turning furiously, but he appeared to reject the conclusion it reached. Argyle alternated between staring at her and Chellick, but Shepard ignored this and turned her attention back to the game and the flying Vakarian.

Garrus’ specialty was a jumping backhand throw which could go in any direction, and he used it to lethal effect on Emerus’ team. For every score, Garrus ran by Shepard’s place and waving proudly. She cheered as loudly as her headache allowed and pumped her fist in the air. Chellick shook his head in slight disapproval, but had to admit, the kid could play. When they were trailing Four by 17 points, Emerus called a time - out and decided to end the game. He was a good sport, however, and as the teams lined up and shook hands, he congratulated Four with excellent play, and Four on their part tried not to gloat too much. When he reached Garrus, he stopped and grinned.

“You, newbie, with that jump shot you could go pro.”

Garrus swelled with pride. “Thanks, but I think my father would have an aneurysm. Maybe I’ll play on the army team.”

“In that case, I won’t ever bet against you. Good game.”

Four returned to their squad leader, who was descending from the stands. Aius and Garrus were competing in puffing their keel bones out as far as possible, and Chellick wisely pretended not to see this.

“All right, I have to admit, this was pretty fun. Clawball is better than I thought.”

“Finally you come to your senses,” Strabo panted. “I need a shower.”

“I think you all do. I’ll have the card table ready for when you’re done. Mevia, might I have a word first?”

“Sure.”

The rest of Four disappeared along with Chellick, and Mevia leaned on the bench with a curious expression. Shepard decided to be blunt, as the scout preferred.

“So, uh, Argyle told me he’s anxious that you’ll dump him after this semester.”

“He what? He never told me that!”

“The poor guy is suffering some delusions that the decision to break up should be only yours,” Shepard went on. “In case you wanted him gone.”

“Stupid humans,” Mevia hissed. “They can never get anything right. And he can’t understand all my subvocalization either. Stubborn and stupid.”

“Pot and kettle,” Shepard coughed. “Anyway, I wanted to share some of my boundless wisdom, yours to do with as you please.”

Mevia stared at her, before giving in to a dispirited chuckle.

“Go ahead, though I doubt you can offer any advice based on my circumstance.”

“You never know. Both Argyle and I have to do a second boot camp for our future military service, and neither him nor I will be able to meet our significant others in that interim,” she began.

“Wait, you have a boyfriend? Who?!” Mevia interjected.

“Speaking only on behalf of myself, I’ve decided that my guy is worth the wait, and since all space flights lead to the Citadel, it’s the perfect spot for shore leave when I do get out and about.”

“Wait, couldn’t you meet your boyfriend on Earth? He’s not..? He’s an alien? What is he?!” Mevia implored. “Wait, an asari? No, they’re not guys. Tell me!”

“Humans have a saying, you regret the chances you never took more than the mistakes you’ve made. I don’t want to spend years of my life regretting not taking a chance, even if it means more problems, more work and copious amounts of medigel.”

“Why would you need.. oh… Ohhh!!” Mevia’s eyes widened in shock. “You can’t be saying what I think you’re saying!”

“I’ve said nothing,” Shepard said lightly. “You’ve done your own interpretation of an innocent utterance.”

“I’ll hound you until I find out the truth,” Mevia threatened.

“Who would believe you?” Shepard smiled like a big cat.

“That’s not fair!”

“Nope, that’s life. Hop in the shower, or Aius will eat all the snacks before you’re finished.”

 

**2175 CE – May 29 th – Common Rooms Poker Table – 19:21 PM  
**

“How did you manage to get all this warm food out of the Mess Hall?” Aius was stuffing his face with a big roll.

“I had a nice long chat with chef Miller, and I promised him to never ever come near him again if he did me this last favor,” Shepard said between chews. “I think he wanted to whack me with a frying pan.”

“We’re breaking regulations here,” Strabo added and tore into a strip of kheelie.

“So what, we’re almost finished here, doubt they’ll throw us out over this,” Argyle said.

He and Mevia had been sitting close together and whispering ever since they got back. Shepard felt their eyes lingering on her, and could hardly keep from smiling. Letting on that she was probably dating an alien after pressuring poor Garrus to be quiet was not nice, but she was almost done here. One more rumor couldn’t hurt, especially if it helped these two work things out.

“Well, I’m full.” Garrus pushed his plate away and picked up a deck of cards. “You said you’d teach us to play poker.”

“Skyllian Five,” Shepard smiled, “and yes, I am.”

She explained the rules twice, and since the turians were unfamiliar with how to shuffle cards and Nirea’s one attempt ended in 52 pick-up, Shepard took it upon herself to be the dealer for the night. The first few rounds she merely dealt cards, went around with advice to the players and placed out assorted snacks for both levo and dextro. Argyle caught on pretty fast, having played a few hands with his older brothers, but both Strabo and Castor struggled with keeping their mandibles closed whenever they had a good hand. They weren’t playing for high stakes, merely the leftover vendor tokens that had to be spent before they left the station, but temperaments soon flared anyway.

Mevia accused Argyle of peeking at her cards, and he deflected by saying he was merely ogling her keel bone. Garrus kept his cards close to his chest to prevent any spying, but he kept glancing at Shepard like he suspected she was up to something. The mild mannered Castor growled at Aius when he discovered the latter was leaving small talon scratches on the cards, and they had to get another deck. Luckily, Garrus had come prepared and pulled out another one. After the hostilities subsided a bit, Shepard decided to join in. All of them immediately joined a defensive line against her, knowing full well that this was one of her talents. Shepard struggled to keep her face neutral, something that rarely happened when she played poker. Knowing full well what they expected her to do, Shepard planned on doing the opposite. Flipping the cards expertly, she dealt herself one losing hand after another. Once or twice she bid big with bad cards, and was called out for it. Four did not know what to think, their squad leader was losing every hand, and only one turian kept on winning; Garrus.

“This is becoming very.. strange,” Mevia said after his sixth straight win.

“I concur,” Castor said and ran his fingers along the back of the cards. There was no marks, but Aius did the same with his hand. Nothing. Shepard hid a smile.

“Nobody’s that lucky, Vakarian, not even you. Bound to change next hand.” Strabo tapped his talons on the table and picked up three more snails.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you suck,” Garrus grinned uncertainly. He had no idea how this kept on happening. Shepard, on the other hand, was fully aware. After serving the snacks in the first few rounds, she’d nicked a deck from his backpack, and deftly pulled cards from it when she needed them. Since she kept on losing, all eyes were on Garrus, and she could cheat more blatantly than ever. The stack of tokens on the table in front of him kept on growing, along with his teammates dissatisfaction.

“I think you’re quite the card shark Vakarian,” Shepard remarked in mock dismay when she lost with four fives against his four queens.

“I think you’ve played before,” Nirea said with narrow eyes.

“I haven’t!” he protested.

“Hmmm...”

“Right..”

“Ahem..”

Their suspicion was reaching a new high, and Shepard decided to mete out her last trick. She shuffled the cards with gusto, and dealt them with a steady hand. While everyone was giving Garrus the evil eye, she prepared a small bag under the table. If things took the turn she anticipated, she would have to run very fast.

Strabo was the first to fold, followed by Shepard and Nirea, and the table became a war of nerves between Mevia, Argyle, Garrus and Aius. The lovers bid until they were out of tokens and had to bow out, and the game became a duel between Aius and Garrus. Garrus had not forgotten that Aius tried to show off in front of Shepard earlier that day, and proudly laid down his hand, four aces.

Aius stared at the cards hand, then clamped his mandibles to his face and slammed his own hand down on the table. Another four aces.

“You cheating little volus!” he bellowed and jumped over the table at Garrus. “I knew it! Gimme my tokens, you damn sneak!”

“Whoa whoa whoa! It wasn’t me!” Garrus shouted and raised his guard.

“Your damn cards, and you’ve been winning all night,” Mevia shouted and stood beside Aius.

There was a rustle of chair as they all got up, but no one noticed the small clinking sound of tokens being swept in a bag behind them.

“Garrus, this is really rotten,” Nirea said with crossed arms. “I expected better.”

“Come on, you can’t believe this. Shepard, do you think I cheated? Shepard?”

Garrus craned his neck to find her, but she was gone. So was all their prize tokens. The rest of them turned around to see what Garrus was staring at. Suddenly Shepard pressed her face up against the window from outside and jangled the bag while laughing maniacally. She gave them a last wink and ran up the alley.

“What the?”

“I knew it!”

“Get her!”

“Get my tokens!”

“Sheparrrrd!!”

 

While she had planned how to nab the prize, Shepard hadn’t really planned her escape, and she fully saw the error of her ways when her team cut her off from returning to the bio-barracks and corralling her instead into station’s obstacle course. She decided to make a last stand on top of the largest wall on the course, but didn’t make it further than the water mote before she was blindsided by a turian. The token bag flew into the air and disappeared, while the pair of them rolled down into the mote, grappling and laughing, trying in vain to get the upper hand of the other. When they hit the water, both of them squealed. The captain had turned off the heating, and the water was ice cold and muddy. Shepard struggled to get up, shivering like a dog. Beside her Garrus emerged from the dark waters with an accusatory stare.

“You did this.”

“Uh, yeah.” She flashed a white toothy smile that stood out from the mud on her face.

“Why don’t you two just fuck and get it over with,” Argyle called from the topside. “We always knew the pair of you wanted to roll around in the muck.”

Garrus swiveled his head and gave Shepard an almost imperceptible nod, but she understood him perfectly. With a flick of her wrist she grabbed Argyle with a biotic hold and pulled him down into the water mote with them.

“Duck him under, the foulmouthed little creep,” Shepard called to Garrus, and he didn’t even hesitate, grabbing Argyle by the shoulder and shoving him underwater.

“Stop drowning my boyfriend!” Mevia shrieked, having newly arrived at the scene. She dived into the mote for the rescue and grabbed Garrus around the waist. A loud chirrup escaped him and he released Argyle, who surfaced spluttering and red - faced.

“Haha, you look really stupid,” Strabo shouted with Castor laughing beside him, and the four in the mote shared a glance, then flung mud and grass tufts at them.

“Hey, stop it!”

“Don’t make us come down there!”

 

“Down you go!” Aius had arrived and he shoved both Strabo and Castor down the sloping mote before jumping in himself.

“Mud wrestling with my squad leader, this is a dream come true.”

“Don’t even think it,” Shepard said half smiling, half alarmed as he approached her with flared mandibles and open arms.

“You started this, Shepard, I intend to finish it.” He charged her and they both tumbled back into the chilling water.

The whole debacle devolved into a mud slinging fest with alliances shifting every two minutes. After about seven had passed, a stern voice called out from the field;

“Four, assemble!” It was the voice of captain Corinthus.

The seven members of Four stood at attention at once, hip deep in slush.

“Well, well. Back to torment me one last time, eh, Shepard?”

“Sir, I, uh, meant no disrespect.”

“No, you only meant to cheat your squad,” he said with a flick of a mandible. In his hand was a small bag they recognized.

“Gambling is not allowed on the station. I believe you’re all aware of this.”

“Yes sir. Sorry, sir. It was my idea, I wanted to teach them skyllian five,” Shepard said. “Just a small gathering with snacks and few friendly games, to celebrate.”

“Ah yes, your exam,” Corinthus hummed. “Heard it went well. Well, I guess I can let this one slide, provided you split these tokens evenly between you, like no game has happened?”

“Yessir,” Four answered in unison.

“Good. One more week, Shepard, and I can finally open that bottle of Horosk. Dismissed.”

 

The seven of them climbed shivering out of the mote.

“Spirits, I need another shower.”

“Me too.”

“How about a vid after? We still have a few hours before lights out?”

“Fine by me.”

“Guys, I’m sorry,” Nirea said from the side. “I was the one that told the captain where you were.”

“Nothing to it, but why?” Shepard looked puzzled .

“I thought things might get out of hand,” she confessed, “and students aren’t allowed on the obstacle course after 20 PM. Sorry.”

“What, because of a little cheating? Never,” Aius chuckled. “Besides, I got to roll around in the mud with Shepard, I call that a win any day.”

“Perv!”

“Yep.”

 

They headed for the locker rooms, and Shepard stayed behind the other six in need of a shower. Nirea had gone to find a vid , and Shepard stood alone in front of her locker and listened to the others joking and laughing in the showers. She was just as dirty and cold as they were, but up until now she’d avoided showering with others because of the scars. The sweater she wore was more brown than white, and she pulled it over her head. The crisscrossing scars on her arms were as visible as ever, and she knew it was only a small part of her collection. The worst part was that they knew. Her squad knew, and had kept quiet for her, never asking questions about her absence. They trusted her, she should trust them. She made a decision, removed the last items of clothing, and picked up a towel. A few seconds of misgivings, and then she stepped into the shower with them. Mevia saw her first and went quiet. Shepard hung the towel and headed for a free shower-head next to Castor. He jerked his head when he saw who it was, but Shepard smiled and turned on the hot water, sighing with relief as her frozen limbs started to thaw. Seconds came and went as her squad took in the sight of the plentiful talon marks, but finally Argyle broke the silent awkwardness by turning Mevia’s water from hot to cold. Her shrill screeches and the sound of a human backside getting a few smacks caused general laughter and relieved the remaining tension. The members of Four returned to their soap and pumice. Most of them, at least. Shepard heard some strange chirps and when she turned around she saw Aius stare at her ass unabashedly, while Garrus seemed to be trying to touch a visor that wasn’t there, and when she met his gaze, he quickly turned to face the wall with a royal blue flush on his neck.

“Aius, would you mind staring at Argyle’s ass for a while?”

“Hmm? Sure,” Aius answered and turned to stare at Argyle.

“Hey, only I’m allowed to stare or touch that ass,” Mevia said and pushed Argyle behind her.

“Cheapskate,” Aius chuckled and picked up his bar of plate buffer again.

“Seriously, if you polish your plates again, an enemy sniper will spot the shine from miles away tomorrow,” Castor complained. “Besides, it stinks.”

“Beauty is a curse, my friend,” Aius said and started burnishing his plates with due diligence.

“Gods, that does smell.” Shepard wrinkled her nose. “Time to get out of here.”

All of them rushed out to get away from Aius’ beauty regime.

“You can’t start the vid without me anyway,” he called after them. “I’ll be right there!”

 

The one vid that was available was an old Blasto vid, but Nirea announced loudly that anything was better than the awful Fleet and Flotilla, which, according to her, was a clear incitement to disobeying the Hierarchy for the sake of lust, and encouragement to lack of discipline regarding personal matters.

“Come on, it’s a classic,” Strabo declared. “It’s about timeless love.” He stood up. “Tonight, I am as free as dust in the-.. Argh!”

Nirea had poured a cold juice box down his shirt.

“Not another word. I hate that vid. Hate it.”

“Fine. Waste of juice, though.” Strabo sat down with a huff.

Aius helped Nirea plug the holo-screen, and Garrus used his absence to take the seat next to Shepard.

“How’s your head?”

“Better, thanks. I think the mud-bath helped cool the amps down, but now I’m too cold.”

“Oh. Well, you know, it’s the oldest trick in the datapad, but I could put my arm around you. As a friend. Just for the movie, I mean. Turians are pretty hot. Uh, I mean, we’re hotter than humans. Ah, no, I meant, our core temperature-..”

“I know what you meant, Garrus. If you could spare the arm, I would be grateful. Don’t want to get sick tomorrow. ”

She smiled at him, and he flicked his mandibles in a return smile and scooted closer. When she leaned into his shoulder, he could feel the chill, even through his shirt.

“Don’t worry, you can borrow my arm anytime,” he murmured against her hair and allowed himself a small discreet sniff.

“There,” Nirea said triumphantly and the screen flickered with the intro, and Blasto himself shimmered into view.

Garrus made himself comfortable and gradually leaned his chin against Shepard’s head under the guise of sharing heat. There was so little time left, he would cherish every stolen moment he could get. Tomorrow was the exam, and a week after that, who knew if he’d ever see her again.

Halfway into the movie he was resting his chin on top of her head without a care in the world.

_Shepard._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, my big mouth(fingers) said that this chapter would be the war games. That didn't happen, as you can see, but next time, I promise, will be the big day with surprises galore, more Saren and more Vyrnnus. Next time for sure. Hey, don't look at me like that, I mean it. Honest.  
> XD
> 
> On another note, I hope it will not be long until I'm back on my normal schedule. Life goes on.


	38. War games under a blazing sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war games are here, and squad Four is planning for victory, while Saren and Vyrnnus have a friendly chat

**2175 CE – May 30 th – Med Bay – 10:05 AM**

Ever since he came aboard Gagarin station, Saren had been doggedly followed by his guide, but in the run-up to the embarkation, the commander had become preoccupied with preparations, and the Spectre had given him the slip. This station seemed to Saren like a gathering point for every undesirable outcast in the galaxy, and he’d glimpsed another familiar face skulking about the place. Even if the turian went by the name Protus Publius now, his pale plates and dark hide made him stand out like a cleft talon, and Saren wondered how a biology specialist had ended up here. His last assignment had made him a target, but for some reason the doctor had turned down protection from Blackwatch and sought refuge with the humans. To Saren this was highly suspicions and borderline treason, but he would not use force where threats would do. If the doctor was in league with Vyrnnus, he would know about it.

The turian patient in Publius’ room left with a small bandage, and Saren vacated the shadows he hid in to knocked on the door. From the inside, a stressed voice told him to come in. Saren placed his hand on his holstered sidearm and entered.

“I really wasn’t expecting another patient so soon,” Publius said with his back turned. “Just a minute.”

“Take all the time you need, Doctor Faro,” Saren said amicably.

He saw the other turian’s body tense, before the doctor spun around and held a scalpel in front of him. Saren merely laughed.

“Cordus Faro. I can’t believe you’ve survived out here on your own.”

“Arterius,” the turian called Publius hissed. “Are you here to dispose of me? Has the Hierarchy finally decided to expunge all records and personnel from _Evolution_?”

“Not at all.” Saren walked over to the visitor’s chair and sat down, keeping his gun ready at the hip. “I happened to spot you this morning, and decided to come for a little chat and checkup. You are still practicing medicine, I see, though in a more.. primitive way than last time we met .”

Publius moved around his table to the far side of the room with his scalpel still outstretched, as if the small blade could protect him if the Spectre decided to attack in earnest.

“Really, Cordus, you think you could hurt me with that? I am a Spectre , you know.”

“Perhaps I hoped you’d fall on it from your own hubris,” Publius said. “And it’s Publius now.”

“Need a bigger blade for that,” Saren smiled, still ever so polite. “And I will of course refer to you by your chosen name. I can only imagine the bounty on your head under your true name .”

“I bet you’ve checked,” Publius spat.

“Indeed I have. But enough of that. Let’s talk of more important matters .”

Publius blinked nervously and tried to keep the scalpel from trembling. “Our topic?”

“Commander Vyrnnus.”

Publius demeanor shifted, and he looked deeply relieved. “Are you here to kill him? I hope so.”

“I have no reason to, but you seem to have one. Do let me know.”

The scalpel clattered down on the desk, and Publius sagged down on his seat.

“He’s a sadist. Mistreats the students for his own amusement, but has connections with the board of directors. I couldn't do anything to help. He knows.. or suspects about my past as well.”

“Is that all? Every school has bad teachers.” Saren was being flippant on purpose, to rile the doctor.

“He’s rumored to be a former brigand. And his treatment of the human students are atrocious. If you’d seen he-..them after one of his ‘lessons..’

“Would one of these abused students be his little prodigy, the admiral’s daughter?”

Publius’ mandibles quivered, but he held up admirably.

“I’m bound by doctor - patient confidentiality.”

“I see..” Saren carefully filed three talons against the leg of the chair. “But you worry for her?”

“I worry for all of my patients.”

“Like a good doctor should.”

“I… Like any doctor would.”

“You will get no argument from me.” Saren smiled and nodded, knowing it was driving the other man up the wall.

“Arterius, will you stop this! Tell me plainly, what do you want?!”

“Want? I want for nothing. I’m here to observe the exam on behalf of the Hierarchy and the Citadel, nothing more.”

“I have a hard time believing that.”

“My deepest sympathies for your paranoid tendencies, but I cannot assist you in your growing fearfulness. Perhaps, when returning one day to the protection of Blackwatch...”

“Not as long as I have any other options! My work should be about life, not death.”

“Your profession carries with it the duality of both, but I see your point. In the future then.”

Saren stood up and gave Publius a long stare.

“The Shepard girl, have you noticed anything strange with her?”

The doctor averted his eyes. “I am bound by-..”

“Yes, yes.. Your persistence is admirable. When you return to us, it will serve you well.”

“If!”

Saren smiled. “No, Cordus. When.” Then he left.

* * *

Publius drew his breath sharply several times, trying to compose himself. If Saren had found him, others could not be far behind. He gathered all his datapads and started wiping the memory cores as fast as he could. The ones relation to Shepard especially. Saren’s interest in the human could not be good, neither for her or for himself . The research on her and the turian boyfriend he’d done so far was on the last one, and he weighed it in his palm, considering what to do with it. His scientific spirit won out, and he encrypted the data and sent in on his private channel to doctor Mordin, before wiping all other traces of it from the station’s pads and hard drive. If he was lucky, Saren and Vyrnnus would kill each other out there, but he would not stake his life on it. Perhaps it was time to resign and move on.

* * *

Saren made more notes on his omni-tool as he wandered in the direction of the shuttle bay. Threads were forming in his head, weaving and dancing but forming no discernible pattern. There was something here, but which parts were related and which were coincidence was still uncertain. Row upon row of students marched into the bellies of the transport shuttles, and he saw the commander hovering over a certain student, snarling orders and perhaps threats, judging by the look of frozen detachment on her face . In the background, her squad was waiting for her to return, and Saren checked the roster again. Garrus Vakarian, Aius Uticensis, Nirea Tarpeian, Castor Sorio, Strabo Calan, Mevia Orestillan, Ivar Argyle. Vakarian. The one clan other than his own that was in constant and official conflict with the Shepards. Who’s idea had that been? There was no trace of that decision anywhere on the station record, and Saren suspected it had been an unofficial and verbal selection. Still more disquieting was the fact that Shepard and Vakarian went along rather well, from what he could determine by their interactions so far. He watched as Shepard returned to her squad and was met with comforting hums and pats on the back. Closing his mandibles to his face as best he could, Saren made yet more notes. Detestable fledglings. They would return to their senses once they were enrolled in the army. They would probably be sent out to fight the expansionist humans on the undetermined borders of the Traverse, and more than likely lose both turian friends and illusions of friendship with the uncivil aliens. He closed the omni-tool and sighed. Time to return to his own ship. There was no reason to suffer through the inane jibberjabber of teenagers all the way to Eden Prime.

 

 

**2175 CE – June 01 st – Transport Shuttle – 05:03 AM**

“There she is,” Strabo announced by the window to the Fours that were awake. “Eden Prime once more.”

“Shut up,” Aius mumbled half asleep. “It takes at least 45 minutes to land and disembark.”

“Yeah, be nice to Aius, he needs a lot of beauty sleep just to look normal,” Shepard chuckled and pulled her shirt on.

“Ahaha, surprised you’re up, what with that verbal smackdown you got from the commander yesterday,” Aius muffled voice came from his low bunk.

“It’s called moral fiber, you slouch.”

“Let the vainglorious one sleep, we can shoot him in the back later,” Garrus said and climbed down from his top bunk. Shepard got a big eyeful of turian rump before she had the good sense to avert her eyes.

“I, uh, have to hit the head. Remember to gather everything before we disembark now.”

When she passed the crammed single bunk that contained the almost fused together shapes of Argyle and Mevia, she was sure she heard snickering. Bah. She would soon run that rebellious streak out of them when they landed in the valley.

 

**2175 CE – June 01 st – Eden Prime, Terra Incognita – 09:12 AM**

The security brief took close to 90 minutes, and another 30 minutes passed to get them kitted with the proper equipment, armor and live rounds. Shepard hovered over Four the entire time, checking and rechecking their ammo clips and heatsinks, running what seemed to them endless comms testing and trying every strap on their suits to see if they snapped, rearranging body armor to cover vital parts.

“Give it a rest, Shepard,” Strabo complained, “you’re going to tear my suit off with all that pulling.”

“Better that than losing the weapon or your head in a fight,” Shepard answered and kept yanking at the shoulder strap.

“This environment is beautiful,” Nirea told Strabo to keep his mind away from being manhandled. “Look at those ravines and plateaus. It looks like the jagged desert mountains on Solregit.”

“It even has sand where it should be rivers,” Castor said and took in the area. “The nathaks won’t like this, being native to Noveria.”

The area in which they’d landed was a collection of terracotta-colored rock formations, winding ravines and craggy archways, filled with sand and dust. If they got lost in one of these trails , the rocks and cliffs would act like a maze and they could take days to find their way back. From pictures she’d seen on earth, it resembled the Mojave desert in the United North American States. Shepard was not keen on the prospect of lurking around in there with wild animals prowling on their heels. She wiped sweat of her brow and grumbled, but the turians seemed to enjoy the heat.

“Should be easy to spot then,” Mevia said and dusted a speck of sand from her scope. “At least from above.”

“Unless they’ve adapted.” Argyle was done checking his second rifle and clipped it on his back.

“Shepard, orders?” Garrus asked after inspecting the only sniper rifle they were allowed on the squad. The prospect of hundreds of students firing long distance shots in every direction was one Conatix weren’t in favor of, and so every squad was limited to one. Shepard had taught them rock, paper, scissor and Mevia and Garrus had played for it, with Garrus the winner again.

She’d commented that at least he won fair this time and shrugged it off. Shepard had an inkling that she would have been more upset if the prospect of fighting beside Argyle wasn’t in her future.

“We’ve been given orders to exterminate the pride of nathaks in sector 9. They have a den somewhere, and we’ve been advised that fighting the animals in such close quarters would constitute a very large risk. They don’t leave their caves often, as they’re a lot cooler than these valleys and they have not yet adapted to this new environment, but good guess, Argyle.”

“Do we know where the cave is?” Strabo said.

“Not the precise location, no. We know the general direction. I think Mevia is on to something about watching from above. You see that taller cliff formation there, the overhang beside the towering flat plateau?”

“Perfect sniper’s nest,” Garrus said, hinting at the obvious.

“That too, but we’ll walk up the ravine to the small summit and spot the area. Where are the grenades?”

“The combat engineer got them,” Nirea said and patted her belt. “Safest that way.”

“Like we couldn’t throw grenades all of us,” Aius said.

“Yeah, but you’d probably throw in the wrong direction, I saw you at the clawball game, fumbler.”

“All right, all right, back to the war games. If we do good on this, we get to pick whether to start in the swamp or in camp. Focus.”

“Swamp.” Argyle said happily to the murderous stares of his turian teammates.

“Friendly fire,” Garrus said to no one in particular.

“Accident,” Nirea added.

“Pushed off a cliff,” Mevia said.

“Save your breaths for the climb, people. Argyle, you and I need to keep hydrated. These creatures,” Shepard waved at the turians, “will probably be fine.”

“Creatures?”

“We need to shoot all the humans.”

“Pyjaks. ”

“Come on, single column march. Guns at the ready.” Shepard started walking, and Four fell in behind her with stifled chuckles.

 

* * *

 

“Have you worked for the humans long, Despan?”

Saren scanned the horizon with his electronic binoculars. Squad Four was on the move, heading for higher ground to reconnoiter. Clever, but elementary.

“Six years,” his fellow observer grunted.

“You must like it then,” Saren observed. “Perhaps your bare face is not as offending to the humans as it is to our kind.”

“More so when I don’t have the authority of a Spectre to hide a bare face behind,” Vyrnnus replied sourly.

“Quite. You know, I find this portable balcony very comfortable,” Saren continued while ignoring the commander's remarks. “Perfectly situated. We can see the valley below, the ridges above, all this while being securely drilled into the cliff. Well done.”

“How I’ve missed that condescension these past 16 years.” Vyrnnus raised his own binoculars. “ This contraption is automated, as you well know. Shepard is making good time.”

“Speaking of that, how did members of clan Vakarian and Shepard find themselves on the same team?”

The commander flicked an irritable mandible at the Spectre, but kept his gaze fixed on the marching squad.

“Cooperation is paramount, and what better way to show the progress of our two species than these two youngsters.”

“Remarkably poignant for you, Despan, but not entirely truthful, I think.”

“Someone with Spectre status should have no trouble uncovering the truth,” Vyrnnus said.

To his surprise, the Spectre chuckled.

“It would seem that the humans are less than cooperative with me, for all your own collaboration with them.”

“Cooperation!” Vyrnnus snapped.

“What? Something I said?” Saren asked innocently.

“Just do what you came here to do, evaluate the human.”

“I will, but it’s nice to chat with old.. friends.”

Vyrnnus drew his breath deeply and slowly to not rise to the bait, and Saren smiled again. He enjoyed toying with the man.

 

* * *

 

“How many are there?” Nirea called to Garrus over the comms. The sniper had climbed the cliff and crouched under the last stone overhang before the peak. Four had contemplated casting their only rope from the overhang itself over to the next flat plateau to gain a more complete overview of the valley below, but Shepard had decided against it. It was at least 8 meters across and the bluff on the other side was eroding. The risk was too high for a minor advantage.

“I can see.. 17, I think. Might be more, but they’re hiding in the crags and the rocks. “Spirits, they’re ugly. Shedding huge tufts of hair.. eww.”

“Mevia, how about their cave? Seen anything?” Shepard asked.

“I might. Two possible locations, there and there.” The scout pointed at two wide hollows in the valley below. “Haven’t seen any movement, so I can’t confirm.”

“Well, we need to close both of them. Nirea, up for some explosions?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Nirea grinned. “I can destroy anything.”

“But barely tear open a nutri-bar,” Aius coughed.

“Hey now, you can kill Aius after the war games,” Shepard warned as Nirea spun around. “I think I might have an idea. Garrus, come down, we should discuss this.”

“Coming.” They waited as he carefully slid down the rolling shale.

“Got a scheme working, Shep?” Strabo looked hopeful.

“Maybe. Look, if we stalk after those nathaks, we’ll be running all day in the heat , and they might get the upper hand on us. I know they’ve stationed hidden instructors around to save us if we fuck up, but we could get into one of their blind spots and get injured, or worse.”

“Yeah, and we might drive them over in another squad’s sector, either giving that squad our kill points, or worst case, getting them killed.” Garrus shook his head. “Neither is good for us.”

“Right. So here’s the thing. At the poker game, you all corralled me into that damn mote by driving me away from where I was trying to hide.” She pointed down the long valley. “If we try the same here, drive them back to their caves, but close the caves when they get close..”

“And close the right hand turn half a click further up,” Strabo ventured, “we could force them all the way up here to this summit, in the open.”

“Where I could start picking them off one by one if someone collapses that rock bridge over there,” Garrus pointed.

“And we’ll be following closely behind to finish the job,” Argyle finished. “Could work.”

“Why not let them enter the caves? We could blow the entrance with the nathaks inside,” Mevia said.

“These caves could run deep, and there might be other exits. If the explosion doesn’t kill all of them, we might be ambushed, or if we fail to destroy the entrance, we’ll be forced to enter and fight in a dark and unstable rock cave. No thanks.”

“Er, no. I don’t want that,” Mevia said hurriedly. “And they can’t get away from here if we close their escape. No way someone could jump across to the other side, not even from that protruding overhang. Garrus will probably be safe. It’s a pretty steep climb to the peak when someone’s shooting you in the face.”

“Pretty safe is not acceptable,” Shepard said and squinted at the suggested sniper’s nest.

“Relax, I’ll be pretty much invisible under there,” Garrus said. “And I can retreat to the overhang, they can’t follow up there.”

“No heroics, okay? I want you safe. If we’re lucky, some of them will charge straight off the cliff.” She walked over to the edge and peered down. The ridge towered at least 70 meters above the ground, and Shepard felt a surge of dizziness, which was unusual. She’d never been worried about heights before.

“So much food wasted,” Aius sighed.

“You’d eat nathak meat?” Mevia inquired.

“I’d eat anything if I was hungry. Even a fellow turian.”

“Get. Away. From. Me.”

“Come on, it was a joke.”

“Begone!”

“Hey hey, back to the plan. So, Nirea is on the cave team, I want Mevia to be on the lookout for you, and Castor as backup. Wire those things to blow when I give the signal.”

“Right.”

“Argyle and Aius, big strapping lads that you are, I need you to topple that big boulder over the split in the road in the ravine. If you can do it without blowing it up, it will help a lot. We need to save grenades.”

The pair of them walked over to the edge and stared at the rock formation she pointed at in the distance.

“No problem,” Aius said. “Leverage, is all. We got that.”

“Will make a little sound when it falls,” Argyle commented, "but not a lot."

“Fantastic. Strabo, check out the rock bridge and find any weak spots. You need to coordinate with Nirea, when she’s done in the caves, get her back up on the trail to the summit and prepare to take it down. Then, set up everyone in a firing line. ”

“There won’t be much left here after we’re done,” Strabo said wistfully.

“Better there be rubble everywhere than I lose one of you guys.”

“Sooo, what are you going to do,” Aius asked. “We’re doing all the hard work, and you have no job, it seems.”

“As for that, my little underlings, I will be scaling the sharp rim over the nathaks’ hunting ground, traversing lose shale and crumbling cliff-sides to get behind them.”

“Ah, sightseeing,” Strabo chuckled.

“That too, but someone has to start the stampede. Nirea, I hope you have at least two grenades for me, and some flash bangs?”

“They gave us two per person, so yeah. Have three regular ones, I don’t want you to take too many risks back there, and five flash bangs. You might have to throw a few to get them moving, but if they get panicked, they won’t slow down for anything.” Nirea tossed them to Shepard, who clipped them to her belt and armor straps.

“Perfect. I think you can detonate the caves when they’re charging down the ravine back to safety. I’ll run along the ridge with more flash bangs, as far as running can be done, driving them forward as best I can.”

“Don’t worry, me and Aius will push down the boulder right away and return for the ambush.”

“And I’ll set up the detonators, run back up to Strabo with my team , set up the trap and wait for your signal,” Nirea added.

“Garrus, keep an eye out for any surprises,” Strabo said and gave him a brotherly pat.

“No worry, I got your backs,” Garrus smiled. “I better get to climbing back up.”

“Move out, people. When everyone is in position, Garrus will let me know and I’ll get the nathaks running.”

 

* * *

 

“They seem to have some sort of plan,” Saren said and made notes on his omni-tool. “She’s splitting up the squad. Dangerous, or ingenious.”

“We’ll see. Sure you are comfortable here? Wouldn’t you prefer lounging in your ship, observing from low orbit?” The Spectre was grating on Vyrnnus’ last nerves, and it started to show.

“Perfectly comfortable, thank you. Water?” Saren held out a bottle for Vyrnnus, whom scoffed and turned away.

“I have my own, thank you.”

As a turian, Saren quite enjoyed the heat of the scorching sun, and he wondered how the humans fared. They were, as far as he knew, not specialized to any climate, but weaseled in wherever they could, without thinking of consequences.

“Come, come,” he said aloud. “We are old friends. Reacquaint me with your endeavors these past years. I might let something slip of my own, even though they are mostly classified.”

“Working,” Vyrnnus said shortly.

“In what business?”

“Bouncer at an asari strip club. Kept imagining all the girls were Benezia,” the commander snarled.

“Ah, the lady is irresistible, I’ll give you that.” Saren smiled, but it was a cold deadly smile. He would remember these comments for the rest of the commander’s life.

“Still, I don’t think that would’ve been the career prospects of a man with your.. talents. What came after?”

“More work. Are you keeping an eye on the squad? We’re also supposed to protect them if they screw up this mission.”

“So far, things seem to be going all right.”

Saren was aware that the other turian’s nerves were fraying. Not because he feared Saren, oh no, the former pirate was too experienced, but because of their past. Some wounds never healed, he thought and stroked the biotics on his mandibles. Some scars never faded.

“Sore face?” It was Vyrnnus’ turn to ask politely. “I’m sure you can call down the Infiltrator and get your crew to drop some bionic grease for that.” He pointed at Saren’s face. “That must’ve hurt. Tell me, how did she get the drop on you?”

Saren's mandibles gave a protesting click when he closed them.

“I was hunting one of the leaders of the Blue Suns. I never thought the audacity of the humans extended to boarding our ship. The SSV Vengeance. Never was a ship more aptly named.”

Saren stopped himself and turned to face the ravine again. The heat made distortions in the air, and he wondered how the nathaks had survived. On his left side he saw Vyrnnus smile, and Saren cursed inwardly. He’d let the man turn the table on him, after having him on the defensive for so long. Another reason to untangle the turian’s web of intrigues. If he could outplay Saren, the councilor would be no challenge.

 

* * *

 

Shepard had finally managed to find the perfect position on the ridge above the nathak hunting ground. The feral animals had joined around a sizable carcass of indeterminate origin, but it looked like some sort of bull. The sounds of tearing flesh and growling filled the small clearing, and she’d sneaked along the rim to get behind the animals. They were too busy fighting over food to notice, and she chanced to send a message to Garrus.

“I’m in position, let me know your status.”

A long crackle was all that met her. Shepard sighed. Damn cliffs and mountains, if they contained trace amounts of metal, the signal might get distorted. The nathaks were still busy with feeding, and she decided to risk going back a stretch. If they saw her, they would undoubtedly start circling under the ridge for a way to get up, but if she managed to set of a flash bang in the back, they would panic and run for the caves. That would be the cue for Nirea to detonate, and Four would take position for the slaughter. That was the idea, at least. Where was the signal?

“Garrus, can you hear me? I’m in position.”

Nothing but a high pitch crackle piped from the comms, and she had to switch it off once one of the nathaks lifted its head.

Was this another test? Was Arista back on the field with her new and improved distorter? Shepard was not keen on walking all the way back to the summit to confirm with her squad, but she stopped dead in her tracks when she heard the not so subtle hum of a shuttle burning its thrusters at full speed. Instinct made her throw herself down on the ground, and a white vessel passed overhead. She glanced up and saw a crudely painted blue sun blaze on it’s belly. This could not be part of the war games?

“Garrus, Four, answer me! Enemy incoming! Enemy incom-...”

A missile fired from the shuttle, and Shepard heard the distant hiss from it’s engine and the explosion from the impact. Over the horizon she saw billowing smoke, and prayed to every god available that none of Four had been in the blast. The nathaks had broken into a run, heading for the opposite ravine, away from the sound and the caverns, but Shepard didn’t care. She began a mad dash over the crumbling cliffs and loose rocks, headed to the last place she saw Four in the hopes that they would still be alive. In the adjacent sector she saw another shuttle swoop down and fire at some unknown target. Where was Eden Prime’s defenses?

_Where were her friends?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're getting somewhere, Saren has found a thread he wants to pull at, Shepard is faced with the terrifying prospect of war and Vyrnnus has met with real resistance from the past.


	39. A promise of blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard 'enjoys' the poisonous fruits of her training, and makes a promise she might not be able to keep.

Before Shepard could reach the summit, she heard rifle fire in the distance and saw the white shuttle fire a second missile into a mountain pass further away. It was too far away to be Four, but she felt no relief over it. It was either another squad, or their exam observers being killed. As she drew closer, she slowed out of her run and started flitting from cover to cover. The white shuttle had returned, hovering over the summit while three men rappelled down and took cover. After making another sweep over the area, it landed on the only available surface, the plateau. More men and aliens in white and blue armor got out and secured the area, then they set up ropes to descend into the steep ravine. A quick glance told her that the road leading out had been blocked by the boulder, as she’d instructed, and unless Four had followed the nathaks, they would be trapped. Shepard still had a small hope that this was somehow all a mistake, and the shuttle was part of the war games, but the scorched mountainside where the observers balcony had been was a crater with charred pieces of metal bars sticking out of the blast area. She narrowed her eyes to see if there were any survivors below, but there were none. This was the first shot, and likely their main target. “Saren Arterius,” she said between gritted teeth. If he was the target, then her friends got killed because of him. Damn that turian.

A team of near twenty men rappelled down into the gorge, and Shepard carefully leaned over the rim to see where they were heading. To her great surprise and relief, the caves Mevia had spotted were still open, and the men took great precautions when drawing close to them. Once they reached the first cave, one of them pulled a grenade from his belt and tossed into the opening. From the cave a biotic force field flared up and the grenade bounced back towards the mercs. The men dived for cover as the grenade detonated outside and was followed by covering fire from several rifles inside the cave.

Shepard pulled her head back behind the rock, feeling a surge of hope. Some of her guys were still alive, and either Saren or Vyrnnus was inside there with them. She had to help them. From the summit she could try to pick them off, one by one. A lone shot from a big caliber sniper rifle rang out and was followed by a loud outcry. Shepard got up and continued her trek back. The gravel under her feet made noise with every step, and she hopped to higher ground. Waving unsteadily, she clipped her rifle to her back to have her hands free while she skipped from stone to stone.

As she got closer to the summit, she saw two of the three men she’d seen earlier huddled behind a fallen boulder near the edge. The shortest of them was clutching his shoulder, trying to stem the blood, the other fired sporadically at the sniper’s nest. Shepard reached for her rifle and took one step closer but her foot slipped and landed on the loose shale. The uninjured man swung around with his rifle aimed high. Months of ruthless training kicked in before she could even think. Her hand flew up and grabbed the man in a biotic hold before throwing him over the edge. The mercenary stared at her with wide fearful eyes wide as he fell screaming to his death. The injured man shifted and pulled a pistol with his good hand, but Shepard swung out her other hand and lifted him too off the ground. The screams of the first merc echoed downward and was cut off by a distant thud. In the injured man’s eyes she saw the fear of a similar fate, but the smoking crater in the cliffs above them hardened Shepard’s resolve. Some of her friends might be dead because of this man and his ilk. She flicked her arm and the second man was lobbed over the precipice after his comrade. Shepard knelt down and drew her breath several times. She’d just killed two men, and it had been easy.

“You bitch!” The merc stood over her with his rifle aimed at her head, and she had no room to move.

“You fucking stupi-..”

His helmet exploded in a pink mist, spraying Shepard with a thin layer of blood, and he never finished his curse.

_Sniper fire. Garrus._

“Garrus,” she shouted and got up. “Garrus!”

“Up here,” he called down as quietly as he could. “Hurry, they might've sent more to investigate.”

Shepard wiped blood off her face, and Garrus swept the area with his scope as she climbed the slope up to his hiding spot. When she landed beside him, she enveloped him in a hug.

“Thank the gods you are safe.”

“Thank the spirits you are,” he smiled weakly. “I thought it was part of the war games at first. Then they started firing at the observer’s perch, before blasting it with a missile.”

On her fingers Shepard felt a warm wet substance and looked down. Blue blood.

“Where?” she demanded

“It’s only a scratch,” he tried.

“Don’t give me that,” Shepard hissed and pulled a medigel pack from her pack. “Show me.”

“It was a ricochet,” Garrus said and lifted his arm.

Shepard inspected the wound, and it was like he said, a bullet had scratched his dermal plate. It was not too deep, but she would take no chances, and slathered gel on the injured area. It was Garrus’ turn to hiss.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“You’d probably say that even if I was treading on your foot.”Shepard gave him a quick smile and cut a small piece of bandage from the roll, placing it on the wound. The gel would harden and stick the bandage to the wound. It was a primitive solution, but they were in a hurry.

“Where are the others?”

“Strabo ran down to check for survivors after the blast,” Garrus said, closing his eyes from the stinging pain. “I saw someone jump from the balcony before the missile hit, don’t know if they survived.”

“There are people in the caves, one of them a biotic,” Shepard said, finishing the makeshift bandage. “It's either the commander or the Spectre. Or both.”

“The Suns have a scrambler, a jamming device,” Garrus said.

“I know.”

“It’s on the roof of the shuttle. I’ve tried to hit it, but the barrier around it is too thick.”

“Where is the rope? Maybe we can find some way to-..”

“Aius and Argyle took it to pull down the boulder.”

“Fuck. And now they’re trapped down there. We have to go to the edge and take down whomever we can.”

“Shepard..”

“We can’t go down, we’re too few, but we can try and help as best we can.”

“Shepard..”

“They might try to ambush us, but if you watch my back from up here, we’ll-..”

“Shepard!”

“What?!”

They stared at each other.

“We won’t last. That shuttle only carries two missiles and have spent both, but they have outboard machine guns and there are other shuttles they can call in for assistance. We need to send for help.”

“How? We can’t reach the jammer, but we can help our friends down there.”

“We can’t reach the jammer, but you can.” Garrus stared meaningfully at her.

“What?.. you can’t mean..?”

“Yeah, I do. It’s the only chance. You need to do that crazy floating thing you do and get across from the overhang.”

Shepard stared at him like he’d gone mad.

“Garrus, it’s 8 or 9 meters across! I’ve never tried to float horizontally, only up or down. And in case you haven’t noticed, the way down is fucking long!”

“I know.”

“Oh gods.” Shepard put her head in her hands. “It’s suicide.”

“It might be, but I don’t think so. You can do it. If we start killing their men from above, they can lift off with the shuttle and turn the machine gun at us. The reason they had to touch down is that the gorge is too narrow for them to fly. Sooner or later Conatix will notice that something is wrong when nobody answers, but we don’t know how long,” Garrus pleaded.

“And if we can interrupt the jammer, even for a short while, we can send a distress call and get help now,” Shepard sighed. “I still have three grenades.”

“Good,” Garrus nodded. He aimed his rifle at the shuttle, studying the enemies on guard.

“I think they’ve left five or six up there. What I can’t understand is what they’re after.”

Shepard knelt beside him.

“It’s Saren,” she spat. “He’s always hunted the Suns, and now they come to return the favor. He was the first one they fired at.”

“Makes sense. He’s away from his ship, with no backup. Easy picking.”

“Not so easy,” Shepard admitted grudgingly. “He might yet live. Better him than Vyrnnus.”

Beside her, Garrus hitched his breath. Suddenly all his self confidence vanished.

“Shepard..” His voice was one low warble.

She turned to him with a concerned look.

“I’ve never.. I’ve never killed anyone before,” he croaked.

His hands shook, and the sniper rifle wobbled in his hand. She glanced down on her own hands, and felt shame that they were steady and firm. That could not be normal. Shepard forced a smile and took his trembling hands.

“Neither have I, but it was self defense. And I’ve killed two, so you only have to feel half as bad as I do, right?”

Garrus gave a strangled chuff at her gallows humor.

“I suppose. Shepard, the first one I shot.. I usually go for the head in practice, but I thought.. If I wounded him, he might run away. He didn’t, they returned fire, and I got hit. It was stupid.”

“Shows a kind heart,” Shepard smiled and patted his cowl. “Kind, but dumb.”

“Yeah. Not like you, you didn't hesitate,” he smiled sadly.

“I think.. I think my adrenaline was up.” Shepard said. She hoped some regret would show itself later, but she feared it would not. Right now, she preferred not to analyze how she felt when she cast those pirates over the edge to die. Garrus peered up at the protruding stone, and looked less certain than earlier.

“It’s a long way,” he said slowly.

“Getting second thoughts about your own idea now?” she said, trying to lighten his mood.

“No, I just.. I don’t want you to die.”

He tried to quell the thrum in his subvocals, but she’d been around turians long enough to hear that he was very distraught. Shepard met his crystal blue gaze and was keenly aware that he’d saved her life not ten minutes ago by killing a man. An act he now had moral qualms about. She leaned forward and put his forehead to his. He jerked slightly, but sat still.

“Garrus, I’ll make you a turian promise. I won’t get killed, and I’ll come back for you. You’re not alone in this. You saved my life, it’s my turn to try and save yours.” She smiled warmly at him and poked him gently on his keel bone. “With you at my six, how could we lose?”

“Shepard..” he whispered with closed eyes.

“Watch my back, Garrus. I don’t think I’ll land softly.” She pulled away and removed her rifle.

“I’ll leave this with you, it’ll weigh me down.” Her knees gave a small creak when she hopped up from her kneeling position. “I’ll climb to the overhang, close the distance before jumping.”

“Take this instead, then you have two.”

Garrus pulled out his Carnifex and handed it over. Shepard took the gun but held his hand for a few seconds longer than necessary. An unspoken understanding was formed between them. They were in this together, and if one failed, they would likely die together. She clipped the second gun to her back. They also exchanged ammo before Shepard got out and started the climb. Behind her Garrus readjusted his position and placed the secondary rifle beside him. His hands were no longer shaking, and Shepard saw him touch the visor. Turning back to the steep climb, she scaled the last meters with her pulse racing.

The heat waves in the air was visible, her uniform was soaked with sweat and the body armor felt twice as heavy as usual. She briefly considered throwing it away, but decided against it. Biotic shields would only go so far. Hiding from view, she crouched down and made her way to the point of the overhang, trying to imagine the leap over the gulch, and again felt the dizziness she’d experienced at the lower summit. Usually she used a biotic lift to float, but this time she had to have enough momentum to carry her all the way across. The image of the mercenaries falling to their deaths briefly flashed in her head, and Shepard wondered if she would scream like that if she missed the jump. Closing her eyes, she steadied her breath and imagined the leap in her mind. Running start, and then jump and lift. With some luck, she would just make it, but it would be close. Too close for comfort. From the ravine, she heard more gunfire and looked down. More grenades were thrown, but the biotic shield held. For now, at least. They would soon run out of ammo, their stores were not meant to fend of a Blue Suns attack, merely to wipe out a small heard of pests. Her friends were down there, and Garrus believed in her. A feeling of certainty filled her. She could do this. She _would_ to this.

Creeping back to the spot where she’d come from, she stood up and stretched for a few seconds, then fixed her eyes on the plateau on the opposite side, visually imagining the landing spot, and ran towards the ledge. As she leaped into the air, she activated lift and soared forward towards the eroded rim on the other side. The first seconds she thought she might make it, the momentum carried her forward for maybe 5-6 meters when it started to slow down. A sting of panic hit Shepard when a Blue Sun merc turn around slowly. She was almost at a full stop, and would remain hovering over the ravine until they spotted her and shot her down. Biotics were never meant to be used like this, and her head was starting to hurt. She’d either kill herself with too much force, or the mercenary would get her. In a split second, she realized what she had to do. Disengaging the biotic lift, she immediately used pull on a stone formation on the opposing side. There was no way any biotic would be able to move that, and instead, she got dragged towards it like planned. Unfortunately, she’d miscalculated the force, and smashed into the rock head first. Shepard felt her nose break against the stone, and the world became dark.

 

* * *

 

Garrus watched in horror as Shepard’s jump slowed down until she was dangling between heaven and earth as a living target. He saw one of the mercs turn and stare at the hovering human, and he raised his rifle while saying a prayer to the spirits. He’d killed her! He’d killed Shepard with his stupid idea. In that moment the biotic aura surrounding Shepard vanished. Garrus thought his heart would stop, but Shepard cast biotic energy towards the plateau, and she was jerked forward and slammed into the stone. His subvocals sang with joy until he saw she wasn’t getting up, and the mercenary was closing in on her unconscious body.

“Please, Shepard, get up, get up,” he whispered under his breath while aiming at the Blue Sun mercenary. She remained motionless and the man prodded her with his foot to see if she was dead. He would not take any chances, and lifted his machine-gun to her torso. Garrus held his breath and squeezed the trigger gently. The merc's head jerked, and his body spun around, revealing the large bloody exit hole on his temple. He slowly toppled over Shepard’s body, and Garrus rolled over on his side and vomited. This was nothing like training. The inside of the man’s head had been splattered on the ground, all pink and red and gray. Garrus regurgitated his stomach content until there was nothing left, leaving him to dry heave between gulps of air. The first one had worn a helmet, said a stray thought in his head. Less mess. Garrus coughed and blinked, trying to steady his sniper rifle again. Shepard had began to stir, but another Blue Sun had come to the aid of his dead comrade and saw her moving underneath the body. From his lookout, Garrus tried to get a clear shot of the man, but he’d dived down beside the corpse of his friend, hauling Shepard from under it and was brutally beating her wherever he could reach. Garrus saw Shepard try and defend herself, but found no opportunity to fire at the moving targets. He keened loudly.

“Fight back,” he begged to himself. “Come on, fight back.”

* * *

Shepard was vaguely aware that something heavy weighed her down, and she’d begun crawling out from under it when a man pulled her free and simultaneously punched her in the face. The swelling from her broken nose was spreading, and she cried out in pain. This seemed only to encourage the man, and he hit her again and again. The darkness which claimed her earlier, swam in front of her eyes again and she tried to defend herself while grabbing at the mans arms. In her dazed state it was little more than swatting at him. They rolled around on the ground, and the man laughed in her face. The blue blazoning sun on his chest seemed to laugh as well, and she barely registered that he pulled out a knife before he jabbed it in her side, finding the slit that was uncovered by body armor. Shepard twisted wildly to escape, and his knife got lodged between to ribs. He could neither push it further in nor pull it out. The pain was excruciating and she cried out again. The merc’s face came close to hers and he smiled with yellow teeth.

“Pretty little thing, aintcha? Wonder what else I could shove in you.” He twisted the knife again, trying to dislodge it. The searing pain tore through her body again, and for Shepard, time froze.

The man’s laughing face morphed into someone else, someone that caused her a magnitude of pain, and his disdainful voice jeered at her.

‘ _Really, Shepard, you’re fighting a more powerful opponent with physical strength? You really are a moron. Why don’t you kill yourself while you’re at it, get it over with.’_

Her biotics flared into life and the man was hit in the face by a fully charged reave. He tumbled backwards, screeching in agony as the brain liquefied in his skull. Shepard stumbled to her feet and watched the man with a dull expression. The mercenary was a target. They all were, and she had to kill them before Vyrnnus could shock or slash her again. Where was the next one? She turned around, eyes not fixated on anything, keeping her peripheral view as wide as possible. She spotted another merc. _‘Kill them all,’_ Vyrnnus whispered in her mind, and Shepard lurched forward, obeying orders. They all had to die.

* * *

Garrus saw something was wrong as soon as Shepard was back on her feet. She was bleeding from her ribcage, but didn’t seem to notice. He’d been thrilled when she’d used her biotics to fend off the man, but right now she acted like a geth, wading into the thickest fire without concern for her safety. He saw her use biotic dash to get close to a batarian Blue Sun before slashing his throat open with her combat knife. That was three guards down. Two more opened fire against her, and Garrus took aim and killed the batarian shooter furthest away. When he zoomed back to Shepard, she was holding the first shooter, a turian, in the air stuck in a stasis field, then front kicked him in the chest, sending him flying off the plateau. Spirits, she was vengeance herself. There was one more enemy somewhere, but the thing Garrus had feared happened, the shuttle started to turn its guns around. Shepard heard the metallic chain pulling the armament around to face her, and Garrus couldn’t help himself, he tried shouting over the noise to get away, to hide. She did no such thing, but instead pulled out two grenades and lobbed them over the closing horizontal door of the shuttle.

“No, the jammer, the jammer!” Garrus shouted.

He didn’t know of she’d heard him, but she pulled the last grenade off her belt and tossed it up on the shuttle roof before turning to run.

The first blast blew out the side of the shuttle and sent her tumbling behind a pile of rocks. The second smaller blast tore the jamming device clear off its hinges. Garrus observed through his scope how it rolled down from its perch and down the wing of the aircraft.

“-iltrator, this is Saren. Request immediate assistance, under attack. Repeat, under attack.”

The message looped on all frequencies, and Garrus was flooded with relief. Help would come. The damaged shuttle had also heard the message. It shook and shuddered from bow to stern as it took off, engine straining under the damage sustained in the explosion as it made its escape. Where was Shepard? Garrus zoomed around, and spotted her atop the last Blue Sun mercenary from the guard crew. Shepard drove her knife in his throat and chest repeatedly until the man stopped moving and laid still, except for the occasional cadaveric spasm. She climbed off the dead body and after calmly grabbing the dead merc's rifle and grenade belt, walked over to the edge and gazed down the ravine. There was still Blue Suns outside the caves. Shepard loaded the grenade launcher attached to the rifle, took aim and began raining down hellfire on the Suns below. Round after round was pumped down the gulf, making Garrus wince when he heard the screams and cries for help, even if they were enemies. Shepard, on the other hand, seemed tranquil. When she was out of grenades, she fired whatever ammo she had left at the blue and white mercenaries she could see that were still alive down there with a cool detached look. When the two guns and stolen rifle finally clicked, she dropped them right where she stood and looked around the area. No other enemies was in sight, and she straightened up and stood at attention, waiting, while blood seeped from the wound in her side.

Garrus couldn’t understand it. Why wasn’t she administering medigel? Perhaps she was out. He climbed out of the sniper’s nest and up to the overhang he now thought of as Shepard’s leap.

Shepard!” he called out over the chasm. “Shepard!”

There was no reply. She briefly flicked her eyes to his position, but made no move on his direction, merely kept standing at attention.

“Shepard, please!” Garrus shouted. This was not right. He’d been recording on his visor this whole time, if something had happened to her to make her this way, they’d find out when help arrived. Unless she bled to death first.

“Please!”

She twitched, like hearing a faraway voice, but remained where she was. From the skies the sound of sextuplet thrusters roared through the sky, and the silver gleaming Infiltrator swerved through the clouds down towards them. With acute precision it dropped a small cargo crate down in front of the caves, then shot after the fleeing shuttles, firing from all batteries. Garrus stared in awe. So this was a Spectre ship.

From below he heard scattered gunfire and saw several biotic energy shimmers. There was a sound of a crate being broken open, and another sound of metal clanking into place. A minute later, Saren appeared on a hover platform, designed for one man flight. The Spectre appeared unharmed, except for a few dings in his armor. Garrus had only seen one of these on a scientific exhibition on Palaven. If he weren’t so concerned for his squad leader, this would have been an amazing moment. He moved so that Saren could stop and step off beside him.

“How is my squad? Are they alive?!”

"A few injuries, but they live. Your medic will probably lose his arm," Saren said and surveyed the area.

“Oh no..thank the spirits he still lives.”

"The message finally got through,” Saren said. “Was it you?”

“I helped. It was mostly Shepard.” Garrus pointed at her immovable figure. “Something is wrong, she doesn’t answer me, and she acts strange.”

“For a human?” Saren asked with only a hint of sarcasm.

“For my friend,” Garrus bit back.

Saren looked at him with mild surprise and raised a brow plate.

“Does your father know the company you keep? I can’t imagine the grand Executor of the Citadel has approved this liaison?”

“My father didn’t just save your plates, she did!” Garrus had no idea where his courage came from to be rude to the Spectre, but he would not hear this after they'd saved everyone’s hide.

Saren sighed. “Acting strange, you say? We best take a look. Her mother can be really unpleasant, better to err on the side of caution.”

He stepped back on the hovering platform and motioned Garrus to do the same. The younger turian felt a sense of dread when the hovercraft dipped before steadying, but kept his plates shut and eyes open. There was scattered gunfire in the valley below, single shots spat from a handgun with mere seconds apart.”

“Vyrnnus is making short work of the injured Suns,” Saren remarked casually.

Garrus clamped his mandibles to his face. The damn commander yet lived.

* * *

After landing, Saren looked more closely at the blood-covered Shepard. It was clear the human was injured, but she just stood there, as if awaiting orders. Years of fighting in the worst places in the galaxy had sharpened his instinct, and when Garrus tried to run past him to his ‘friend,’ he pulled the boy back and hummed a warning. The human girl caught sight of them in the corner of her eye and slowly drifted around to face them, her nose bent in a strange angle and a unfocused stare.

“Shepard,” Saren said calmly.

There was no reply, but no hint of recognition either. Her fingers started stretching as if preparing a biotic assault.

"Shepard, stand down.”

Still no answer, and now she was walking towards them.

“Vakarian, stay back. Your friend is not herself.”

“Don’t hurt her,” Garrus pleaded. “Shepard, stop!”

Now she was running towards him with her biotics flaring, and Saren barely had time to push Garrus further back and form a shield before she launched herself in the air and slammed down like a furious spirit. Saren felt his shield crackle under the strain, but it held. He chuckled in spite of himself. Whatever this was, it was going to be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I know, another cliffhanger. I'm evil. XD
> 
> I have some good news for me and bad for my readers. My vacation is finally here, and that means next week I'll be on a road trip, checking out my country's beautiful fjords and mountains, but that also means I won't have a chapter ready for next Friday. The week after that, however, I'll be back in business, and we'll see what happens when you challenge a Spectre, even if you are out of your mind. :D


	40. The Spectre, the sniper and the Shepard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saren and Shepard dish it out, with Garrus on the sideline. But as anyone knows, a Vakarian will not stay quiet for long..

Another sparkle of biotic discharge hit Saren’s shield and made it evaporate. He quickly dashed away and turned to meet his attacker head on, but she was no longer there. Shepard had mimicked his movements, using her own biotic dash to circle him from the right and ending up behind him. Saren cursed and flared another shield as he spun a second time to meet her, but Shepard was not coming from above this time, instead she was sliding along the ground in a hail of gravel, kicking his legs from under him. When he fell, she was atop him in seconds. Spirits, the little monster was fast. Not as powerful as him, but fast. He grabbed at her, but she twisted free, tearing the sleeve loose, and he saw numerous scars trailing up her arm, their shape chillingly familiar in their triple sets.

She still maintained that glazed expression from earlier. The Spectre had half expected there to be glee at having the upper hand over a family enemy, but nothing of the sort was discernible on her features. The dead stare reminded him of chipped slaves. Another biotic crackle told him she would try to reave him.

“Shepard, no!” the Vakarian boy cried out again, and for a split second, Shepard’s face twitched in confusion and she stopped the reave. Saren used this to full effect and drove a quick jab in her bleeding ribs, making her cough blood in his face. Fuck. He was allergic to the stuff. Shepard panted at him through bloodstained teeth and he used the momentum to shove her off. On the ground he rolled away, clawing desperately at his face to remove as much blood as possible. Despite being injured, Shepard wasn’t done. She hit him in the back with a biotic charge. Saren was thrown meters away, hitting the cliff-side with enough impact to dent his armor again. He cursed his own soft handling of _that thing_. Whatever that student had been at the start of this day, she was now whatever ideas Vyrnnus had put in her head during training. Saren winced as he clambered to his feet. His mandibles had taken the brunt of the impact, and the burning pain made him enraged. Why wasn’t she at him again?

“Don’t you recognize me? It’s Garrus!”

That fool boy had gotten in her way.

“You promised me!”

For the second time, Saren saw a hint of feeling in that tranquil face. She’d promised the boy what? He was a moron if the thought whatever words they’d exchanged could break a programming this strong.

“Get away from her, you idiot! She’ll kill you as easily as look at you!”

“No! She wouldn't hurt me.” The kid turned to the human. “You wouldn't hurt me again, would you? Shepard?”

The raw pain in his subvocals hurt Saren’s ears, but it had a similarly strange effect on the human. She started to twitch her face like she too was in pain, clearly fighting some inlaid programming. Her breathing became faster and more shallow, almost hyperventilating. Her fingertips erupted small biotic discharges and extinguished them just as fast, like her body was at war with her brain. Saren observed with fascination, forgoing victory, but instead used the interlude to inject himself with an epi-pen. It would be extremely embarrassing if he choked to death on Shepard's blood. The Vakarian boy stood in front of her, defying her to take another step. Almost a minute past for Shepard’s splintered mind reached a consensus. Grabbing the boy by the scruff of his neck, she pushed him aside and refocused on Saren. The Spectre sighed. Not the outcome he’d expected, which was a flattened turian. Ah well.

“No, don’t!” Garrus pleaded as she shoved him out of her wake.

 

She was again a blur, but slightly slower this time, Saren found. The blood loss would start to weaken her drastically when coupled with the continuous biotic assaults on his own person. This fact had registered somewhere in her head as well, because now she tried to charge close, throw a few jabs and swipes, then retreat to safety to catch her breath. Saren tried to temper his earlier anger. It would not look good to the Council if he killed a student, and this student in particular, even if she was like an annoying platepricking Invictus gnat. After her third charge, he noticed that the human had excellent technique, even if she was injured and mindless. In her fourth attack she managed to place an elbow in his already bruised mandible, and he howled in pain. Not a flicker of emotion on her face. Over in the first sector he could see the first Conatix shuttle land. This little tiff could not be a long drawn out battle of attrition.

“You think you’re good, Shepard?” Saren said loud enough that he could reasonably assume she heard it. “You can’t even protect your friends.”

He sent a minor charge towards Vakarian. The impact would not hurt the boy, but it might cause Shepard to be distracted enough for him to knock her unconscious. To his surprise, Shepard acted against all reason. She used a biotic dash to reach Garrus and flared a shield a little too late, the charge hit her square in the chest. It was a small one, but in her her weakened state it nevertheless caused enough pain to bring her to her knees, flecks of spit and blood foaming at her mouth. When she looked up again, her eyes were the clearest he’d seen so far, but the blood vessels in her eyes were breaking, and she glared at him with a look of red hatred. For a second, Saren felt something akin to fear before he reminded himself that he was looking at a half dead human student who would likely pass out from blood loss any time soon.

“Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it!” Garrus bellowed and knocked the kneeling figure over on the ground.

Saren again held back, watching this weird freakshow with a stoic calm. Were everyone from that station insane? Shepard's power was waning, and she withheld from using biotics on the boy. Garrus locked her arms over her head with one arm and grabbed the back of her head with the other.

“You promised me! You promised,” he insisted, then he pressed his forehead to hers.

Saren sneered at the shameful display.

“Find me in there. Find us,” he heard the boy mutter. The appeal would be useless, Saren thought. Even if there had been small glimpses of-..

Shepard’s breathing changed again, increasing to an alarming rate and her body started to shake.

“Are you trying to kill her for me?” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

The kid ignored him.

“That’s right, I’m here. You told me you’d save me and come back for me. I just need that last part now..”

Saren felt a bit nauseated, but was unsure if it was an allergic reaction or the scene playing out in front of him. He’d not spent much time with insufferable teenagers in his later years, and was a happier man for it. At least his intimate circle was too old for such romantic effluviums.

“Please...”

Another moment of silence, only interspersed by Shepard’s foot scraping on the sand, then there was another shift in her breathing. The Vakarian kid stiffened.

“Gar-..rus?”

“Yes! I’m here. I’m here. I had your back. Spirits, I.. oh no, all the blood..” he stared wildly around, patting the empty medigel container on his back.

“Fuck! Do you have any gel, sir?”

“Yes.”

The boy looked at him expectantly, but Saren merely observed the pair. It would appear that the girl was back to herself again. Odd. Very odd.

“Would you mind giving me some, _sir_ _?”_ Garrus said, teetering on rage.

“Hmm? I might, if you let me copy the vid you’ve been recording on your visor this entire time.”

“What? Yeah, fine, just give me the gel.”

“No, you’ll hand that visor over now, and I’ll give you the canister.”

“All right, all right, here! Now give me the _spiritsdamned gel!”_ Garrus shouted in the Spectre’s face.

“Temper temper, Vakarian. Not yet a citizen, and still trying to give orders to your superiors? What will daddy say?”

Saren dropped the canister in the boy’s waiting hands, and he dived back to Shepard and started to administer gel on the wound. Shepard bit back a small moan. A small metallic glint told Saren that the blade was still stuck in her ribs.

“Don’t pull at it,” he warned. “It might act as a plug in the hole. Be a shame if she bled out now.”

“I know that.” Garrus snapped without looking up.

“’ts only a scratch,” Shepard wheezed.

“Oh, stealing my line, are you? You’re so not funny, Shepard,” Garrus said and tried to hide a chuff.

Saren shrugged. It looked like the boy knew what he was doing, and he turned his attention to the blue tinted visor. A Kuwashii, high end upgradeable version. He spun it between his talons a few times before he plugged it to his omni-tool. A myriad of files appeared, but he didn’t have the time to look through them to find the relevant data. Instead he copied everything on to a separate file, the Shepard file. The Infiltrator’s VI could sift through the information and delete the school stuff. He called his ship again.

 

* * *

 

Garrus noticed the pale color on Shepard's face when he wrapped up the bandage. She’d lost more blood than he felt comfortable with, but since their real medic was down below with damages of his own, this would have to do.

“Four?” Every word she forced out was a struggle.

“They’re alive. Castor is injured.”

“Gods, no..”

“Just relax. We did what we could.”

“My head spins.”

“No wonder.”

“Did I do something.. I wasn’t supposed to?”

The question was loaded with follow-up questions Garrus wasn’t willing to answer right now.

“We did everything we set out to do. The signal got out, and Saren’s ship chased them away.”

“That’s.. good..”

“Yeah, it is. Just stay here.” He got up.

“Was hoping to wander off, see the sights,” she smiled painfully.

“Not funny again, Shepard.” He gave her a quick pat on the shoulder.

Garrus walked over to the Spectre. Saren was talking to somebody on the Infiltrator, and Garrus caught the message that the ship had taken down at least three shuttles, but others got away. Coordinates had been sent to Eden Prime’s small fleet, and the Infiltrator was returning here. With a talon flick, the conversation ended and Saren turned to Garrus.

“What’s her status?”

“Weak.”

“I thought as much. The facilities at Eden is still under par for what you have at Gagarin. I think the wisest cause would be to take the most grievous injured on the Infiltrator and take the shortest route back.”

“You’re willing to help?” Garrus asked.

Saren chuckled. “Not like I have much choice this time. Make no mistake, Vakarian, this will be a political incident, perhaps one to reach your father. To be seen to _not_ render assistance would make huge waves for the Council, and even Spectres answers to their wrath. Eden Prime has alerted the authorities on earth, and the Alliance will undoubtedly be sending someone of some importance to _help_ with the situation.”

“Do you know why the Blue Suns attacked us?” Garrus said carefully, but not careful enough. Saren was immediately on guard.

“What is your theory?”

“They came for you.”

“It seems a reasonable enough conclusion.”

“Who else would it be?”

Garrus felt Saren's’ eyes observe him closely, but he had no other clue. As far as he knew, the only thing that had changed in this exam from the last was the Spectre’s presence.

“Who indeed?” Saren shrugged and made more notes. “Now, for your other.. display over there, do you really think it a good idea to battle bond with a human?”

“Huh? I’ve never..”

“Don’t be stupid, boy. I saw what I saw. Promises made when you rely on someone for your life? This whole station has been a mistake.”

“She already has a boyfriend,” Garrus said sadly.

“Stop thinking like a human, Vakarian. How do you think you managed to draw her out of her induced battle rage? She refused to hurt you, despite being conditioned to kill. Did she make you a promise not to?”

Garrus looked away. “Something like that.”

“Well, there you go. I doubt even that boyfriend of hers would’ve survived that encounter. Those scars on her arm, did you make those?”

Garrus stiffened and clamped his mandibles to his face.

“No!”

“But you know who did, though?”

“Don’t know anything.”

“Lying to a Spectre?”

“Prove it.”

Saren laughed at him.

“More bite than common sense. Very well, boy, I will find some proof. Here, your visor.”

He dropped it into Garrus’ waiting talons, and the sniper put it in his front pocket.

“About Shepard's mental state..?”

“Yes?”

“Can you help her?”

“Don’t know why I should. My clan and hers aren’t friendly. In fact, it’s aligned more to your own.”

“A debt is a debt, regardless,” Garrus said earnestly.

“Debt? What debt?”

“You would’ve died in that cave without the Infiltrator. Shepard and I managed to break the disrupting signal, allowing you to call it down.”

Saren sighed. “Maybe. Look, kid, the Shepards are-..”

“This Shepard is my friend.”

“Don’t place such trust lightly, and rarely outside your own species. The humans are untrustworthy at best, and enemies at worst.”

“They fought with us.”

“This time. Next time they might not.”

“Not with that attitude.”

Saren stared at Garrus with an amused expression.

“So loyal. So proud. And so young and foolish. It must be great, being 15 and knowing everything.”

“Soon 16.”

“Dear me.”

Garrus understood he would get no further and returned to Shepard's side. She was barely conscious, and he pulled off his jacket and made a makeshift pillow for her. The heat was no good for her, and he tried to sit so the sun would shine on his back and not on her face.

After a few minutes and several more chimes from the Spectre’s omni-tool, he saw the looming shadow of the Spectre over them.

“A message from your humble commander. It appears he knows about the plan to remove the injured back to Gagarin on my ship, and wants to be aboard to help. Do you think I should let him?”

This was a fishing expedition, and Garrus recognized it as such.

“No.”

Saren waited patiently for two minutes, but Garrus said nothing else. Finally he asked the reluctant student.

“No explanation?”

“If you want people to talk, he’s not the turian to have around.”

The sweat on Shepard's face had loosened some of the crusted blood. Garrus very carefully scraped away what he could with his talons.

“I see. And who should I talk to?”

“What do you want to know?”

“Hmm.. What is there to know?”

“I don’t play games, sir.”

“Clearly.”

Shepard blinked awake with reddish eyes and smacked her dry lips. “Water?”

“Careful with that. Don’t want her to cough, not with that so close to her lungs.” Saren said absentmindedly.

“I’ll be very wary of that, sir.” Garrus opened a canteen and let Shepard have a small sip.

“Thanks,” she breathed and was out again.

“No Vyrnnus, then.” Saren looked to the horizon as the roar of six thrusters approached. The Infiltrator held a course directly for them.

“Help them load Shepard in the med-bay, then wait here for your own shuttle. I’ll go fetch that little medic of yours and give an old friend some bad news.” Saren headed for the moving platform again, and Garrus was alone for a moment with Shepard.

“You’ll be fine,” he said. “I had your six.”

“I know,” she mumbled, having been awakened by the incoming ship. “You’re my good luck charm.”

“That again?” he chuffed and gently lifted her off the ground as the Infiltrator landed on the plateau.

“Let’s get you inside.”

 

It was not until he saw the black and silver ship gleam its way over to the next sector that Garrus thought to put the visor back on. He activated the screen, and in palaveni blue letters it flashed over the screen: _All files transferred_. Oh no. Spirits, no. The pictures of Shepard, the vids of Shepard, Shepard's involvement with a turian, his own many discreet shots of her when they were out and about, Saren now had it all. If the Spectre felt obliged to tell his father of this, he’d be dead. The only question would be who killed him, Shepard herself or Galenus Vakarian.

 

**2175 CE – June 01 st – The Infiltrator, Captain’s cabin – 11:55 PM**

Saren glanced at the timer on the screen. It said ETA Gagarin station – 5 hours. The transport shuttles took about 16 hours to make that run, while his own faster ship could make it in less than ten. Saren felt his tongue grow heavy in his mouth. It was time to use a second epi-pen, and he administered it. From his desk, he was receiving incoming rapports every 20 minutes. The death toll was 26 so far, 14 instructors and 12 students. He sighed and leaned back in his chair. Whatever Conatix had been doing at that station, it would be shut down now. The Alliance had decided on sending the SSV Tai Shan, captained by admiral Hackett of the Fifth Fleet to meet them and assist in their investigation. Saren smiled. They were indubitably planning on foisting the entire blame for this fiasco on his presence there, since the Blue Suns had no other motive for the attack. And yet.. There was something about commander Vyrnnus’ great zeal in killing off every injured mercenary before they could be taken into custody, and Saren didn’t believe for a minute that it was for the protection of the students.

What made it more intriguing was that the shuttles that were shot down were registered under shell companies belonging to Vido Santiago, but the man had relinquished leadership of the Suns to Solem Dal’Serah. An attack of this magnitude on a Spectre would have to be sanctioned by Solem himself, but everything about this case pointed at his henchman. Saren struggled to reconcile this fact with the rumors of commander Vyrnnus having ties to the Suns. A small internal struggle would not merit this assault, and that left him as the target, but there was no evidence of the presence of Solem here today. The batarian bore him a private grudge from the fight where Saren had gouged out one of his eyes. Whenever Solem wasn’t busy snatching and selling slaves and red sand, he was forever looking for ways that his soul could escape the clutches of his future cold rotting corpse. That or he was looking for revenge. If this was his plan, he would’ve been here.

There were no new updated files on Santiago either, as Saren had not received his usual data packet from the Citadel this month. That was not unusual, but still damn inconvenient.

Another update from the med-bay ticked in. Three students still in critical condition, Shepard again escaped from her bed in recovery. Saren cued up the surveillance tape and found her where she hid the last time, almost bent double sitting by Castor Sorio’s bed, holding the arm that was still attached to the boy and stroking his fringe. How that human managed to sit up with that injury to her side was a mystery to him, and he found her small rebellion irksome, yet not enough to actually do something about it. He decided to let her sit there. At least she wasn’t snooping around his ship, and he had more important things to do.

“Cue up the Shepard file from my omni-tool. Remove all files not pertaining to Jane Shepard.”

“Yes, Arterius.” The VI had a low, pleasant Thessian accent.

To his annoyance, that still left a considerable number of files.

“Start with the images.” He took a sip of palma from his cup, trying to alleviate the sour taste the allergens always left in his mouth.

A series of images flashed across the screen, mostly students doing student things with Shepard in the mix, Shooting at the firing range, night training, putting scarabs in some human student’s food, gambling night, mud fight in a water mote? Really? Silly things, Saren thought as he made note of how many of the pictures involved humans and turians laughing together. When the next image flashed his screen he almost spluttered juice all over his desk. There, in the mix was a dead ringer for Hannah Shepard, creepily pink and naked on a bed. Upon closer inspection he saw it was an image from that disreputable rag, Fornax, but couldn’t help wonder how this had become hidden among Garrus Vakarian’s files. Saren watched the picture a little too long for comfort. Strange how feeble and weak these humans seemed without their armor, and they could still be so troublesome. If he ever met that woman again, he wondered if he would keep seeing this image. Saren ordered the VI to continue, and he found little else of interest in the pictures, besides how many of them it were.

“Cue the vid-files.”

“Yes, Arterius.”

Saren watched the start of the exam and found himself agreeing with their stratagems between jumps forward on the vid. It would have been a good plan, if the Suns hadn’t interfered. When Vakarian had been left alone in the sniper’s nest, Saren paused the vid and ordered the VI to do a frame by frame comparison with whatever shuttle that appeared on the screen. He would track down each and every one of them for later.

“As you wish, Arterius.”

“Resume play.”

Saren watched as Garrus tried to call Shepard and the rest of the squad for advice when the first shuttle arrived and his shock at the first missile fired. That had been a very near miss for both the Spectre and the commander, and he still remembered his emergency jump back straining under the pressure of descent. The sniper kept calling for help, but all frequencies was at this point jammed. The shuttle made another swerve and deposited three men on Vakarian’s side, but the sniper didn’t fire at first. Saren felt a twinge of anger, but checked himself when he recalled that they were not hardened soldiers, but recruits. And they were not him. He’d been taken out of boot camp first year and put into active service. These were ordinary students.

The vid continued and a firefight erupted between the three and the sniper. They were going to try and flank him, when a second recruit showed up. Shepard made short work of two of them, with Vakarian finishing the third. The audio itself was damaged, most likely due to the wave-jammer, but Saren got the gist of Vakarian’s concern of having killed someone and Shepard’s assurances that it was okay and their ill-fated ‘promise’ that would come into play later. Now the jump, however, that was interesting. He’d never seen something like that, and held his breath when Shepard was half way over the gap, and released it after she found a solution still hanging in the air, slamming into those rocks. Now that was impressive. He saw the next Blue Sun fall from sniper fire, and Shepard's trial by fire in close quarter combat. Saren also saw a potential trigger for Shepard. Extreme pain. The knife lodged in her side, the dead focused stare, he’d seen this type of conditioning back in his days in Spectre training. Assassin Cabalites used this technique, and if used right, you could enter a trance state to ignore pain and fight on. If taught wrong, you would not recognize friend from foe in said trance and attack anyone, regardless of alliances. Unless that someone was Vakarian.

Saren rubbed his crest. So many loose threads. Not even that promise should’ve kept him from getting attacked, but Shepard had shown extreme reluctance against hurting him. Hurting him.. again, the boy had said. Damn it. Better to get it straight from the human’s mouth. He pushed a button.

“Yeoman Igni, bring Shepard up to my cabin. I believe you will find her in the med-bay.”

“Yes, sir.”

Saren saw the time stamp of the next vid. It was _ninety_ minutes long. What the hell was wrong with this boy? Another button push:

“Belay that order 40 minutes. Bring her to me after that.”

“Yes, sir.”

Saren decided to fast forward through whatever this was, but found himself entranced by the content. The recording was a training session of Vyrnnus and Shepard, which confirmed a lot of his suspicions. The scars, strict adherence to her conditioning, unwillingness to give up, she’d been well trained, up to the point where the commander, unsurprisingly, had botched the trance technique. This was no wonder, him having been thrown out of the academy himself. The question was, how much of Shepard's psyche was salvageable. Like this, she would be a danger to everyone on the battlefield, not only her enemies.

Saren paused the vid at the point where a new turian entered the gym hall looking for Shepard, because there was a knock at the cabin door. It was time to speak to the admiral’s daughter, and he wondered how like her mother she really was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gods, my vacation was a trip to Hell! Pneumonia, fever, cough and respiratory problems, and I even got the wrong type of antibiotics first time around so I had to start again this past Monday. I can only say it's great to be home, and I will not be taking a car trip next year, oh hell no! (and one of my family members were sent to hospital with severe breathing problems, turning blue around the lips. He's better now, but wtf!!)  
> At least now I can sleep at least 4 consecutive hours a night and have some time to write another chapter for you guys.  
> If I was a superstitious person, I'd think I'd been cursed. ;) 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the chapter. Some action and some plot :D


	41. Outrageous horsetrading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saren and Shepard have a long talk, and Shepard has her first encounter with politics.

“Enter!”

The door whooshed open, and yeoman Igni walked inn, followed by the human girl, holding a transportable metal rod with a blood transfusion bag dangling from the top. She walked unsteady, but determined.

“You may go, Igni. I want to have a private conversation with our guest here.”

“Yes, sir.”

When Igni had left, Saren motioned for Shepard to sit, despite a small urge to see how long she could remain standing in her condition.

“Well, we’ve had a full day. Care for a drink?”

Shepard gave him a look that told him she was aware of being played. Good. No fun otherwise.

“I doubt that the school would approve of that, even if I turned 18 in April, sir.”

“I think you’ll find that what Conatix approves of or not, is no longer valid in this political climate. Or do you think it will be business as usual with dead students cluttering up the place?”

That made her wince, and he knew he’d struck a nerve.

“Sir, the casualty list..”

“Yes?”

“May I see it?”

“You mean, you didn’t manage to steal it from the infirmary as you escaped from the place?”

Shepard gave a little snort, that turned into a pained cough.

“No, sir, unfortunately I didn’t. Please.”

Saren looked through the datapads on his desk, found the right one and handed it over. After reading the pad, the tensing of her jaw told him she’d seen at least one familiar name.

“Friends?”

“Thankfully not, sir, but I recognize most of the names.” She placed the pad back on the desk and pushed it toward him.

“Thank you.”

She met his gaze, and for the first time Saren saw the real Jane Shepard. She looked tired, with red eyes and a defeated expression. There was little here that reminded him of the fiery mother, and he felt slightly disappointed.

“How’s your.. friend? In med-bay?”

“Castor? He’s.. He’ll live. The left arm had to be amputated, too much shrapnel. He tries to be positive, but..”

“I see. I’m sure the Hierarchy will provide a new bionic one, in a year or two.”

That got a response.

“In a year or two!? Castor’s in boot, he still has one more year before he becomes a citizen, and now he has to another wait another a year or two? What the hell?”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, the Hierarchy has other concerns, like securing its borders from all kinds of aliens and slavers. It will be dealt with, in time.”

“In time, we’re all dead,” Shepard muttered.

“Some sooner than others, I think.”

She didn’t reply, merely stared at the wall with a vacant expression. Saren decided to poke around a little more.

“Your other friend, Vakarian, has an interesting collection of images on his visor.”

Shepard broke her stare at the wall and shook her head in confusion, like he was talking about something completely irrelevant to the topic at hand.

“What? You mean the Kuwashii? He likes to take pictures and film stuff, done it ever since he got it. A little annoying, but harmless. What of it?”

“A lot of those pictures are of you.”

Saren saw the change in Shepard's posture. Now she felt under attack, and he could almost hear the whetstone sharpen her mind.

“I’m his squad leader, it’s only natural I’m always around.”

“Never said otherwise.”

“No, but you implied it.”

“Did I?”

“Didn’t you?”

Saren smiled. Now they were getting somewhere.

“During your little, ahem, seizure today, you tried to kill me. Do you remember?”

Shepard averted her eyes.

“Yes.”

“Do you remember why?”

“I.. believed you to be an enemy. I’m sorry.”

Saren’s smile made his mandibles flare from ear canal to ear canal.

“You’re sorry you attacked and tried to kill a Spectre. I have to say, Shepard, that excuse never got anyone out of Purgatory.”

The metal rod wobbled slightly, but she kept her face neutral.

“I’m sorry to hear that, sir.”

He sighed. She was taking all the fun out of it.

“Oh, do cheer up, Shepard. I won’t be pressing charges. You were clearly not of sound mind.”

“No, sir. Thank you sir.”

“Still, some impressive moves out on the field. Would’ve done well if not for the attack.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Not as articulate as your mother.”

“I suspect my mother has a lot more she wants to say to your face, sir.”

“And you don’t?” Saren leaned forward, still smiling.

“No, sir. Whatever my mother wants to say to you, she can tell you herself. I won’t fight her wars anymore.”

“Anymore? Now that’s interesting, because your teammate, Vakarian, let it slip that you’d actually caused him injuries before.”

That caused her neutral face to crack with raw shame, and Saren stopped smiling. It would’ve seemed.. inappropriate otherwise.

“That’s.. Yes, I did. I hurt him pretty bad at the start of semester last year, could’ve killed him unless doctor Publius stopped me.”

“The doctor? How?”

“He stabbed me in the neck with a sedative.”

“Well done Publius.”

“You don’t know how much I agree with that sentence, sir.”

“And you realized your mistakes in life and became bosom friends with all the turians at the station after that? Convenient.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Shepard snapped. “It took time! I’m not the easiest person to deal with, and I took it out on others for quite a while.” Her face turned red and she shut her mouth.

Saren knew he was getting to the heart of the matter.

“Took out what? Shepard, took out what? Tell me, or little Castor will be traveling alone for the rest of the trip.”

“I’m not supposed to talk about it,” Shepard whispered to herself. “The board said so.”

“The board? You mean the school board at Gagarin? Shepard, did you hear what I said 5 minutes ago?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You heard it, perhaps, but it clearly didn’t register. The school will be shut down and the board dissolved. There is no more Jump Zero as of today.”

“I don’t understand what you’re getting at, sir.”

He sighed.

“Humans. Listen. Whatever orders the board have given you are now null and void. Whatever training regime you’ve worked with commander Vyrnnus will no longer be applicable. The commander himself can issue no further orders to you. In essence, you’re done. And so are the rest of your, ah, friends.”

Shepard looked skeptical, and Saren didn’t blame her. As long as she gave him the information he wanted, she could doubt him all she wanted. Everyone else did, as a matter of course.

“Fine. Just tell me, does this _‘what’_ have anything to do with Despan Vyrnnus?”

“Why do you ask, sir? Seems like you already have the information you need.”

The chair squeaked when he leaned back. He kept it like that on purpose.

“Just because I know what I know, it doesn’t mean you’ll tell me what I already know.”

“You want to see if I’ll lie, sir.” It was not a question.

“Yes.”

“And if I do?”

“It will confirm my belief about humans.”

Shepard’s lip curled upward in a sarcastic smile, but it was the first sign of a sense of humor he’d seen.

“Quite the conundrum for me then, sir. Damned either way.”

“And I’ll be less inclined to help your friend get his arm faster.” Saren saw his verbal sparring partner jerk her arm, and he knew he’d found a pressure point.

“That’s not funny, sir.”

“Not to future citizen Sorio, anyway.”

He found some personal pleasure in watching her squirm, unable to find a position on the chair that would accommodate her uneasiness and her wound.

“All right, sir. I’ll tell you what I know.”

“Better. The commander?”

“He got involved in my punishment, for Garrus. I’ve heard rumors that he got paid per biotic human he managed to push out through the training. The captain said-..”

“That would be captain Corinthus, correct?” Saren interrupted.

“Yeah. The captain said I was some sort of special deal because of who my mother is. Perhaps he got more paid for keeping me in than throwing me out.”

“Maybe. Go on.”

“I had to train biotics with Vyrnnus in the evening and run a squad in the morning. That would’ve been hard enough, but Vyrnnus’ training, it.. sometimes it was rather hard to perform up to his standards, sir.”

“Shepard, I’ve seen your arm. And I’ve seen this. Stop lying.”

He showed her the paused vid, and she looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“How did you find..? Garrus,” she sighed. “Stupid kid.”

“Infatuated, more like it. Have you met Galenus Vakarian?” Saren asked. He’d started smiling politely again, he just couldn't resist it.

“No, sir.”

“No plans of going as the daughter in law?”

“Sir, I’m not dating Garrus Vakarian. My mother would have a stroke, or start a war. One of the two.”

Saren laughed.

“True, but what fun it would be. Go on.”

“The training was just.. it was like I was the evening amusement for Vyrnnus. He enjoyed beating me. After a few months, something changed. He wanted me to win, not just to break me. And before you ask, no, I don’t know why the change of heart.”

“Nothing happened on the station? Nothing at all.”

“Not really. Not in that period, at least. These past few months Vyrnnus has been away a lot from the station. No, I don’t know where,” she said before he could ask.

“He took it a bit easier on me after Miguel died,” Shepard continued. “Don’t know why, he’s not the warm and sympathetic type, but he backed off a bit. Kind of a relief.”

Saren’s instinct told him there was something here.

“Who’s Miguel?”

“Miguel Santiago, leader of squad Three. Training accident. I saw at least three people from his squad dead on the roster today.”

“Miguel Santiago,” Saren repeated with a faraway expression. “The first death on campus?”

“The only. I mean, we always had injuries, what with people like me,” she grimaced, “and the commander around, but nobody actually died.”

“Tragic. Family?”

“Miguel? I think he had a brother who shipped his body back to earth. Can’t remember the name.”

Saren waved it away.

“Not important, I’m sure.”

“Anyway, the commander’s been on my case to do well in my exams and stuff lately. He’s been less brutal, almost in a good mood sometimes. Don’t know why that is either.”

“Hmm, I see. Very well, Shepard. Is there anything else you think I should be aware of? Anything at all?”

“No, sir, nothing that’s relevant.”

“Good. Now lets talk about you.”

“Haven’t we already done that, sir?”

“Not about that incident on the battlefield, no. You know that any psyche evaluation that exposes that defect will deem you unfit for service? And rightly so, right now you’d be a menace to friend and foe alike.

“I.. hopefully it can be fixed, sir.”

“You hope for that, do you? Years of therapy, perhaps operations?”

“I’ll find a way, sir.”

“Do you blame turians for this?” he said, observing her closely.

“Not turians, sir. One turian. And not because he is a turian, because he’s an asshole. I’ll get him back some day.”

“Some day?” Saren said.

“Yes.”

“Shepard, I just told you.. Never mind.”

Saren tapped his talons on the table and studied the human across the desk. She tried to hide that the wound in her side had started to hurt, but the whitening knuckles around the IV-drip gave her away. It was a strange feeling, sitting across from that familiar face and not see any hatred, only exhaustion and pain.

“I think that was all, Shepard. You may go. Preferably to your own bed, but since I know that won’t happen, don’t disturb the other patients too much.”

“I won’t. Thank you, sir.”

He called Igni back to take her down to med-bay, then unpaused the vid he was watching. A beige plated turian with white colony markings came running in and picked up the bleeding figure on the floor. Saren couldn't make out what he said.

“Enhance the audio on the last part,” he told the VI.

“Enhancing the audio.”

An unmistakable purring rolled from the speakers, and Saren’s mandibles dropped to their lowest level and stopped with a double click. Shepard was.. that young turian was..

A low chuff forced itself from his throat, followed by chuckling, then loud belly-laughs as the absurdity of the situation dawned on him. Jane Shepard, daughter of the most notorious turian hater on this side of the Traverse had a turian lover.

“Run that turian through the student roster,” he said when he finally stopped his mirth.

“Yes, Arterius. The student is Decian Chellick, second year boot, specialization officer’s training, applied for military police after boot.”

“Notable relatives?”

“Father retired from C-sec following injury, instructor at Titan Academy. Mother serving on security forces on Palaven. Uncle Venari Pallin, currently second in command to the Executor on the Citadel.”

Saren rocked his chair to make it squeak a few more times. Shepard had inadvertently placed herself in the middle of Citadel politics. If it were to come out that either of the two turians’ families were involved in any way with Hannah Shepard’s family, that information could shatter the power structure at the Citadel. Investigations into allegiances, suspicions of treachery, careers destroyed, he held it all in the palm of his hands. But what would be gained from it? Saren didn’t much care for Galenus Vakarian, the man was far too rigid in the performance of his duty, and he knew the other turian felt the Spectres were loose cannons on deck. Venari Pallin was a proud and obnoxious Bostran, almost as ‘by the book’ as his boss, but they were no immediate threat to anyone. Their loyalty to the hierarchy was indisputable. In all his dealings with humans, however, he’d never encountered a pro-turian human that wasn’t inspired by money or promise of advancement. Shepard, as far as he could tell, had very little to gain from her liaison with this Chellick-character, and much to lose. Her entire career would be in peril if this came to light. Not that it would be much of a career, with that defect in her head. On another hunch he turned the surveillance vid back on, and Shepard was back at Sorio’s side. The injured boy looked happy to have her there, and Saren was impressed against his will by the loyalty she inspired. To have such an ally in the Alliance military could be of some benefit to the Cause. He’d have to think about that some more.

“Search the student roster for Miguel Santiago.”

“Yes, Arterius. Miguel Santiago, second year boot, deceased on April 06th 2175 CE following a training accident. Specialization close quarters combat, applied for early acceptance in the Alliance military.”

“Relatives?”

“Mother deceased, cancer. Father KIA, former military. One living brother, Vido Santiago. Whereabouts unknown.”

“So much for me being the target,” Saren muttered. “But to what end?”

He got up and paced the room. On Eden Prime, he’d lectured that Vakarian boy about the dangers of aliens, but enemies from within where more insidious, and thus more dangerous. Vido Santiago suspected Vyrnnus involvement in his brother’s death. But why would Vyrnnus kill the brother when it would be much more efficient to use him as leverage? Unless.. Some other party demanded it? The Suns used to be a small time slaver outfit, but they had grown more bold lately. And Vyrnnus approaching the councilor to ask for favors was very dangerous for a small time mercenary.

Besides the connection between the two Santiagos, he had no proof of anything. Oh, he could kill Vyrnnus under his Spectre privilege, but would be no closer to discover the intent behind all this, and he would have to start again. The Blue Suns would probably meet with an unfortunate accident or be taken over by either the Eclipse or the Bloodpack. So what did he know, up to this point? Not much. There was a connection with the commander and the Suns, the commander wanted ‘something’ from councilor Sparatus, probably a position in the Hierarchy, and then what? To what purpose? Inside information on trading routes for the Suns to raid? To prevent the Suns to be raided by the turian fleet? Possibly, but Saren wasn’t satisfied with any of these options. No, there was something here that didn’t add up. He knew that the humans had problems with piracy on their borders, just like the Hierarchy, and the constant power struggle between their species allowed these outfits to grow in the cracks. His mandibles clicked again, a constant reminder of the human’s lack of respect for the Citadel and the Spectres. A small dab of bionic grease, and the clicking ceased, for the moment. Saren returned to his pacing.

If he allowed the information to get out that Miguel Santiago had a brother in the Suns, he might escape some of the backlash against himself in the wake of the numerous deaths that had occurred on Eden Prime. Conatix would take some of the blame, and then.. No. Saren stopped his walk in front of a small window and peered into cold space. _No._ Let Vyrnnus think he won this one. Let him have his position in the military. That would make him easier to have under constant surveillance. The commander would be the bait, luring out whomever was behind this, and if it meant that his own reputation would be tarnished, then so be it. It mattered not. He’d get them all in the end.

Saren went back to his desk and started writing what would be his official statement to be sent to the SSV Tai Shan. The Alliance would have a field day with this, but that was part and parcel of the bait. A quick stop at Gagarin, exchange the necessary superficial pleasantries with admiral Hackett and get Shepard off his ship, lest the mother show up with her dreadnought and tried to blow him out of the sky. It was time to get to work. Saren felt an almost giddy excitement. It had been a while since he’d had a good ‘game’ running, and this promised to be big. A plot to undermine his Hierarchy, with unknown players. It was unacceptable. It was thrilling. It was what he lived for.

 

* * *

 

Two hours later the Infiltrator got a reply from the Tai Shan. It read:

_“Admiral Hackett and the human ambassador to the Citadel, Donnel Udina requests the presence of Spectre Saren Arterius and recruit Jane Shepard aboard the Tai Shan for debriefing after docking. The Alliance has no authority over a Council Spectre, but would request S. Arterius to accompany J. Shepard to prevent any incidents.”_

Saren reread the message and flicked a lazy mandible. This reeked of the ambassador. The admiral would not be so demanding. However, it would be an opportunity to see how Shepard junior reacted to the Alliance’s biggest propagandist, Donnel Udina, and if she was a project worth investing time and effort into. Saren waggled both mandibles as an afterthought. Since when had humans become so much fun?

 

**2175 CE – June 02 nd – The Tai Shan – Conference room – 07:03 AM**

“This is an outrage!” The ambassador was red in the face from rage.

Admiral Hackett looked embarrassed, and Saren looked amused.

“Maybe, but that means the truth is outrageous. I could not have disrupted the signal without the help of Garrus Vakarian, yes I know who that name belongs to, and no, I will not say that humans saved the day alone.”

“You will say whatever we order you to say, Shepard,” Udina spat. “We cannot accept that this Vakarian-fellow had such an impact on the situation. From your own words, and the report of Spectre Arterius, you killed most of the mercenaries around the shuttle yourself.”

“Yes, except for the part where I was passed out under a pirate, and he saved my life. There would be no Shepard without Vakarian yesterday.”

“Shepard, I forbid you to repeat that.”

“Funny, I don’t remember being under your employ.”

“You will do what we say because you’re in the military.”

“Not yet. I’m still a civilian, and I’ll tell the truth.” Shepard was dog tired, and even if the blood bag and the IV-drip had been replaced, she’d pushed herself beyond endurance to keep Castor company, and what little she’d slept was with her upper body laid over the side of his bed. Only her own anger at this man’s blatant lies kept her from keeling over.

“The truth is in the eyes of the beholder, and since most of the dead students are humans, the truth is human as well.”

“Seven to five? Not a lot of difference,” Shepard snapped.

“How do you know that? We haven’t released that yet.”

“I’m afraid that’s my doing,” Saren said from the sidelines. “I let her read the casualty report.”

“Why?” Udina demanded.

“Because I felt like it,” Saren smiled.

The only answer was a low grumble, before the ambassador turned back to his victim.

“It is a shameful day when a turian Spectre is more cooperative with the Alliance than a member of a proud military family,” he said.

“Saren Arterius can tell whatever lies he wants. I will tell the truth,” Shepard said, glaring at the pair of them.

“Listen to me, you little shit. Just because you’ve been raised by krogans, and right now you look like one, it doesn’t allow you to be as uncivilized as their kind. Your allegiances is first and foremost to humankind, and right now, I am its representative out here.”

“What calls my allegiance into question by saying that humans and turians worked together yesterday to defeat a common foe? It makes no sense!” Shepard protested.

“Because you do not grasp the importance of Citadel politics,” Udina bellowed. “We are trying to become a council member, and your stubbornness threatens to undermine all my hard work.”

“By stealing glory that rightfully belongs to another? How is that honorable, or just?” Shepard glanced over at the admiral, who stared at Udina with tensed jaw. Saren on the other hand, looked like he was having a field day.

“Enough! We will talk when you’ve had time to think about this,” Udina snarled. “You are not to leave the Tai Shan until this matter is resolved.”

“But De-.. my squad,” Shepard said. “I want to see them.” She’d almost slipped up. Mention Decian here, really, she must’ve been hit harder in the head than she thought.

“When you’ve come to your senses. Dismissed.”

 

* * *

 

From what Saren could see, if the ambassador had not stepped away from Shepard, she would’ve whacked him over the head with the metal bar that carried her blood bag.

“That went well,” Hackett sighed. “Udina doesn’t understand the mindset of a soldier. It’s hard to betray a comrade in arms, regardless of species.”

“Perhaps idle threats is not the way to go, then,” Saren replied. “Does anyone know what Shepard wants for her future?”

“I’ve heard rumors about the N7-program, but nothing’s settled yet. I know Ha-.. the mother. The girl wants a career in the Alliance Navy.”

“Then use that. Threaten to take it away.”

Hackett stared at Saren with surprise. “You would see turians being robbed of their rightful part in averting further death?”

“What I want, is for this to be over with. One turian’s part in this small skirmish is of no great matter to the Hierarchy in the long run.”

“I have to disagree with you, Arterius. Our people don’t have many incidents like this where we fight on the same side. This station is finished, but the battle could-..”

“Get it done,” Saren said. “Shepard’s position is not as strong as she thinks.”

He walked away from the admiral with a smile. Now where would Shepard herself be contained?

 

* * *

 

Shepard had fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, and she was not happy to be shook awake by a very insistent figure beside her bed.

“Go ‘way.”

“Come, Shepard, I would have parting words. You can sleep when you’re dead.”

Shepard blinked her eyes in the semi-dark and answered groggily.

“Saren? Why are you here? Don’t you have a councilor to suck up to, or something?”

“Rude as always. Listen, Shepard. Udina will get his will, one way or another. You can either choose to be on his good side, or on his bad side. I’ve always found it better to pretend to bend when I’m not in a position to break my opponents.”

“Very deep advice. Any more, like don’t lick a vorcha?”

“I have never licked a vorcha, so I wouldn’t know the purpose of the act. _Listen_ to me. Humans have an idiom about horse trade and politics, which means that right now you could refuse and get nothing but a boost of self indulgent pride, or you could make a deal with Udina and get practically anything you asked for.”

“I don’t want anyt-..”

“An arm for your friend?”

She closed her mouth immediately and glared at Saren. _Castor’s bionic arm._

“You said you’d help me with that.”

“And I’m doing it right now, but you have to be sensible. Udina is desperate for good publicity for the humans, and you can use that as leverage.”

“But Garrus-..”

“Is a Vakarian. Udina will never allow his name to be mentioned in the news reel. Ask for something for him, but don’t waste this opportunity. Be smart.”

“Why do I feel like you’re playing both sides,” Shepard said with narrow eyes.

“Hmm? Oh, I might’ve mentioned to the admiral that he could threaten to take away your career prospects, should you prove difficult.”

“You..! What the fuck! You’re a real bastard, Arterius!” she fumed. “Not that it’ll matter. Not like I’ll get accepted anywhere with my ‘problem,’ is it?”

“Impress me with Udina, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Shepard stared long and hard at Saren.

“You know, you and Vyrnnus has a lot in common.”

“Perhaps. The main difference would be that I’m good at what I do. Don’t get on my bad side, Shepard, not when you provide such good entertainment as to make me want to help you.”

“I don’t trust you for a second.”

“Good. You shouldn’t.”

“I’m not convinced of your plan, either.”

“Fine by me. I don’t have an armless friend crawling around the station.”

Shepard tried to get up and get at Saren, but he chuckled and pushed her back down.

“Don’t get riled up just because I know how where it hurts. Remember it and save it for later.”

“Later? You think we’ll meet again?”

“Oh, I think there’s little doubt of that. Question is, will it be on the battlefield or in the strip club.”

“I didn’t know you could strip, sir?”

Saren raised a browplate at her, then barked a laugh and slapped her on the back.

“Well done. Now think about what I’ve said. Do it smart, or be swept away by the tides of time.”

He left her sitting in the dark, thoughts fighting for space in her mind. The Arterius clan had been their enemies for as long as she could remember, and now her future rested in the hands of one. Shepard didn’t like those odds, but right now, his advice was her only hand to play. She laid back down, but despite being tired and worn out, sleep stayed away for a long, long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter became a lot more "chatty" than I planned. Saren would simply not go away, and Udina always has something to say. :D
> 
> Aaaand it's an early release, because I have to take another trip to the hospital tomorrow, and I wanted to get it out before that. 
> 
> Enjoy :D


	42. Gifts and Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard makes her choice, and Garrus makes his.

**2175 CE – June 02 nd – Tai Shan – Conference room – 17:45 PM**

They’d let her sleep most of the day, but Shepard felt nowhere near rested. The question of doing the honorable thing or doing that which would benefit more people weighed on her like ten dead mercenaries. The thought of betraying Garrus, who’d saved her life and pulled her out of a mental tailspin that could’ve broken her permanently gave her a physical ache in her chest. The thought of denying aid to Castor and the others who’d been maimed in the fight made her feel sick. And the families of the dead.. Would Conatix be prepared to pay reparations now that they were being shut down? Or would they cite some bankruptcy law and leave the families to fend for themselves? Where was Decian? Was he waiting for her on the station or sent home? Emerus, Celsus, Arista, her squad, what would they think? What, what, what, if, if if.. Right now she wanted to punch someone. Preferably Saren Arterius, for planting the idea in her head.

Footsteps outside her room told her that the ambassador was ready to put more pressure on her. The nurse had been in earlier and freed her from the IV-drip, but she still felt a little woozy when she rose up. Four short knocks on the door was followed by it’s opening, and a very timid ensign walked in. He was tall and gangly, and saluted her twice out of sheer nervousness.

“Recruit Shepard, you’re wanted in the conference room.”

She raised an eyebrow and wondered if this was how people acted around Saren all the time. He certainly liked to unsettle people. Maybe she could do the same.

“Do you want me?”

“Huh? What? What do you mean?”

“To go.” she smiled to the almost hysterical ensign. “Do you want me to go to the conference room?”

“Oh.. Yes! Yes! That’s why I’m here.” He looked relieved.

“All right then. Must not keep the ambassador waiting.”

They walked in her crawl pace, and the ensign kept glancing at her whenever he thought himself unnoticed. Finally he could no longer keep his tongue.

“Is it true that you killed 50 Blue Suns?”

She stopped so fast he nearly trampled her.

“No! Is that what they’re saying?”

“That’s the scuttlebutt. Someone overheard the ambassador saying that you could be the greatest recruitment draw we’ve had since the first contact war, but you’re refusing because of a turian. Is that true?”

“Do you think it’s true?”

“No, ‘course not. You’re a Shepard, after all, you’re not scared of turians. I mean, we’ve all heard the stories about admiral Shepard and Saren Arterius.” He leaned in conspiratorially and whispered; “And Arterius is now aboard the Tai Shan. He’s the turian, isn’t he? He’s the one causing problems.”

Shepard forced a smile. “I think that turian is forever causing problems, wherever he is.”

This, apparently, was enough of a confirmation for the ensign, whom nodded vigorously and turned them left. Another 6 minutes of walking, and they were in front of a large ornate door.

“Well, good luck in there. Show those turians we won’t lay on our backs for them.”

That caused Shepard to have a small coughing fit while she tried to hide a grin. Poor Decian, no more being on top for him, and he loved it so much.

“I’ll do my best,” she told the hopeful ensign and stepped through the doors. The determined expression on his face made her think he'd be remaining outside the doors with his ears pressed against it.

The only people inside was ambassador Udina and his secretary.

“Ah, there you are,” Udina said after glancing up from his datapads. “I trust some hours of sleep has you back here in a more reasonable mood?”

“It might have,” she said hesitantly.

Udina sat up and placed his fingertips together.

“Good. Are you prepared to make an official statement?”

“I have some requests first,” she said and waited for the ambassador to yell at her.

“Ah, I thought we might hit that little snag,” Udina said. “You do know your future career depends on the answers you give in here?” He leaned forward and stared at her with a fierceness that rivaled a certain commander.

A calm certainty formed in Shepard’s mind. Saren had been right. Udina wanted this like a tick craved blood. And right now, with her mental capacity in question, there was no career to lose and everything else to gain.

“Be that as it may, your story will look a lot more believable if you have someone to corroborate it. And I have some concerns before I can do that with a clear conscience.”

The politician and the recruit sized each other up for a while, and to her surprise, Udina relented after a short pause. He waved her on.

“Very well, let us hear these requests, Shepard. But remember, I haven’t agreed to any of them yet.”

“Yes, sir. First, I want the Alliance to put pressure on Conatix to pay reparations to the families that lost someone during the battle.”

It was Udina’s turn to be surprised. He turned to his secretary.

“Hmm.. The Alliance ensures that all families will be compensated according to the company’s obligations. A symbol of our commitment to honor our agreements with our allies, hmmm… Yes.. Make some notes on that, Ainsley.”

He turned back to face her.

“Anything else?”

“Uh, yes. There were a number of injuries among the turians that will need surgeries or prosthetics. The Hierarchy will not be able to provide this for months, perhaps years. I want the Alliance to provide help for those who need it.”

Udina stared at her and drummed his hand on the desk. She could almost see the cogs turning behind his eyes.

“Ainsly, how about; The Alliance is aware of the Hierarchy's lack of medical resources to provide suitable care for the sufferers of the attack, and will generously offer to assist in the matter. All those afflicted will be offered the best care from the Citadel’s most brilliant surgeons, and we will spare no expense in this matter. The Gagarin initiative was a symbol of cooperation between the humans and the turians, and humanity will not leave our allies behind.” Udina chuckled to himself. “If that won’t stick in Sparatus’ gizzard, nothing will. I hope his plates crack.”

He jerked around and pointed at Shepard with a trembling finger.

“I never said that!”

“Said what?”

“Good. You’re asking for a lot here, Shepard. This list of requests better not be much longer.”

“No, sir. Just one. I want a memento from this battle. Something to remember it by.”

“Something tells me that this will be the hair that breaks the camel’s back,” Udina muttered. “Go on.”

“I want a personal weapon gifted to me in memory of my deeds here.”

Udina blinked several times.

“Is that all? A commemorative weapon?”

“And I want to choose it myself from the Tai Shan’s armory.”

The secretary leaned down to Udina.

“Sir, that might be unwise, admiral Hackett has not authorized us-..”

“Is the admiral in charge of liaising with the Council? Does he have the authority of the Systems Alliance in this matter?” Udina hissed. “Surely the admiral can spare-..” he stopped and stared at Shepard.

“A rifle,” she said hurriedly.

“A rifle from the armory. I doubt the combat readiness of the Tai Shan will be majorly impacted by this.”

Ainsly sighed. “As you wish, sir.” He handed Shepard a datapad, and she started flicking down the inventory list. When she’d scrolled all the way down to the bottom, a name popped on the screen, and she knew immediately this was the one.

“That one,” she said and pointed.

“But.. but that is a prototype, specially made for the Alliance Navy,” Ainsly protested. “The admiral will not-..”

“Object,” Udina finished. “Very well, we’ll grant you the rifle. But now, Shepard, comes the price. You will have these requests of yours, but I will demand this in return; You will confirm the official story about the attack, you will not mention any member of the clan Vakarian, and you will accompany the Tai Shan back to the Citadel to participate in some promotional work for the Alliance. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir. Sir, may I go ashore before we leave?”

“I don’t see why that is necessary,” Udina began.

“I want to show my friends my new rifle and say goodbye.”

“How long are we remaining on Gagarin, Ainsly?”

“Four hours, sir. Spectre Arterius has been very cooperative.”

“Indeed. Very unusual. Very well, you may go ashore for those 4 hours, but be back before departure. I will not look with a kind eye on you if we must send out a search party.”

“I’ll be on time sir. The rifle?”

“Ainsley will escort you to the quartermaster and explain the situation.”

“Thank you, sir.”

 

**2175 CE – June 02 nd – Sickbay – 18:55 PM**

“Cheer up, Castor. Think of all the sympathy sex you’ll get when you go home,” Aius said in what he hoped was a warm and compassionate voice.

“Is there something wrong in your head, Aius, or were you always like this?” Strabo snarled. “Stop trying to be nice. It’s not your style.”

“Let him be, he’s trying,” Castor said with a tired voice. “Sometimes it comes out a bit wrong.”

“I wasn’t trying to be mean,” Aius said glumly. “I just wanted Castor to think positive thoughts.”

“Anyone heard from Shepard?” Argyle asked. He sat huddled with Mevia in the crook of his arm, and she was half asleep on his shoulder.

“Not a word,” Garrus huffed. “They might’ve told us that she was okay.”

“Unless she’s not okay,” Aius said, and was met with several glares. “Hey, I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Why don’t you just shut up? You’re a complete moron,” Garrus growled and whetted his talons on a nearby table.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m going to ask Celsus if he’s heard anything. Anything's better than sitting here with you lot.” Nirea got up and left hurriedly.

“Nirea still owes me tokens from a bet we had, I better go collect,” Aius murmured and hurried after her.

“See,” Castor said quietly from his bed. “You made Aius feel bad.”

“He annoys me,” Garrus said and kept sharpening his talons.

“Maybe, but he did good in the caves. Pulled Castor out of the line of fire and bandaged him up good,” Strabo said.

Garrus sighed. “I’ll apologize later.”

Five minutes later Nirea, Celsus and Aius returned. Celsus had the look of someone carrying bad news.

“What have you heard?” Strabo asked.

“Tell us!” Garrus said.

“There is a rumor floating among the ground crew of the Tai Shan..” Celsus began.

“What? What?”

“That the official statement of Spectre Arterius and the Alliance confirms that the attack was by the Blue Suns, and that it was in retaliation for Saren’s tireless work against piracy and slave trade.”

“Okay, but what of-..” Garrus interjected.

“They are commending recruit Jane Shepard’s role in thwarting the attack, and that Shepard has or will make an official statement to that fact.”

“And,” Garrus asked with a sense of dread.

“There is nobody else mentioned. No turians, not you, not anybody. Just Shepard.”

“She wouldn't,” Garrus said in a half strangled voice. “I was right there with her.”

“Sorry, Garrus. That’s what they say.” Celsus looked down.

“It’s not.. It can’t be..” Garrus said, trying to reconcile his ears with his heart. “She’d never..” When he met the look of pity in his friends eyes, he couldn't take anymore and stormed out of the room.

 

“Garrus, wait,” Castor called after him. “We know she wouldn't-.. Damn.”

“Do we?” Argyle said. “Shepard is a bit of a dark horse. Who knows what deal she's made to get away from Vyrnnus.”

“Hey!” Mevia had awakened and slapped him on the chest. “She wouldn't have left Garrus out like that without being strong-armed.”

“Poor Garrus,” Castor said, gently rubbing his stump. “I think he really wanted.. Uhh..”

“Don’t stop now,” Mevia barked. “Wanted what?”

“I think he wanted them to get along better, after all they’ve been through,” Castor said with a careful glance at his friends.

Nirea freed herself from Celsus’ arm and strolled casually over to Castor’s bed and sat down.

“We won’t know for sure until she’s back here,” Strabo said and crossed his arms. “Everything else is speculations.”

Nirea bent down and whispered something in Castor’s ear. His neck filled out with blue.

“I never said that,” he said in a low voice.

“No, but you almost did.”

“Go away, Nirea,” he chuffed.

“You think he’ll..?”

“Strabo, she’s pestering me, take her away.”

“Nirea, leave Castor alone.”

There was a throat-clearing in the doorway, and a man in an Alliance uniform stood in the opening.

“Sorry to intrude, but is this the room of Castor Sorio?”

“That’s me. All these other losers are intruders from squad Four,” Castor smiled.

“I have a letter from the human Embassy on the Citadel, signed by ambassador Udina himself.” He handed the small datapad over and gave a short nod.

“Squad Four, you said? Does anyone here know Aius Uticensis?”

“That would be me,” Aius said and stepped forward.

“This is for you,” the man said and gave Aius the same kind of pad. “From the Embassy. Now, if you will excuse me, I have more letters to deliver.”

“What does it say,” Mevia demanded. “Come on, you two!”

Castor tucked the datapad on top of his knee and scrolled with his remaining arm.

“It says.. It says the Alliance will get me fitted with a new prosthesis at the best surgeon on the Citadel,” Castor gasped. “This summer! I won’t have to wait for my parents’ insurance and the military hospital at Palaven.”

“What?”

“Aius, what does your say?” Nirea gave him a small prod.

“It says.. the same thing Castor’s says. My injury will be corrected at the Citadel, if I want it.”

“What injury?” Strabo asked.

“Yeah, what injury?” Argyle stared at him.

“It’s nothing.”

“Come on, tell us.”

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Don’t be a wimp, Aius.”

“All right, all right.” Aius looked embarrassed. “In the firefight, when I dragged Castor away, I..”

He hesitated and coughed. “I chipped my fringe.”

“What?”

“Spirits!”

“Damn..”

“I... I glued the piece back when you weren’t looking and I’ve been sneaking pain killers since the fight. Didn’t want you to see it. I told Publius when I got here, and he wrote it in my journal. The Hierarchy can fix it, but, uh, it’s not prioritized.”

“But the Alliance will,” Argyle said thoughtfully. “Wonder why the Alliance is rendering so much assistance for you turians.”

“Yeah, wonder...” Strabo tapped his talons on the table. “I wish Shepard would stop by. Maybe she can tell us.”

 

**2175 CE – June 02 nd – Shuttle bay – 18:57 PM**

It had taken longer than anticipated to get the weapon, as the quartermaster was really reluctant to release it to a civilian, and in the end, Udina himself had arrived and scolded the man into submission. Before she could protest, they’d also stamped the stock with her first initial and last name at Udina’s request. She pretended to be pleased at that, but when the quartermaster turned his back, she managed to nick a box of putty to remedy the travesty. The man even conjured up a gun case for her and Shepard thanked him warmly.

“You have 3 hours left, Shepard. Make the most of them,” Udina said and disappeared with Ainsley trailing behind him.

 

Shepard stepped out into the bustling entrance hall with the gun case in her hand and looked around. Where would they be? Sickbay, most likely. She hadn’t taken two steps before three talons locked around her arm and a voice hissed in her ear.

“There you are.”

She was frogmarched into the nearest public bathroom, and the poor first-year turian in there fled when a large beige turian growled menacingly at him.

“Really, Decian, that wasn’t-..”

She didn’t get further before he’d swept her in his arms and burrowed his face in her neck, purring madly.

“It was necessary, Jane” he managed. “I was going crazy out here.”

In the face of his desperation, Shepard relented and hugged him back and he purred even louder.

“Spirits, I feared you were dead at first. They wouldn't say anything.”

“They wouldn't let me go. The ambassador had an image to front. I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too. And I couldn't even ask after you as my girlfriend,” he said accusingly.

“I know.. and you know why that has to be.” She leaned her own face in his neck and gently lapped at the softer hide there.

“I know, I just hate it,” he said, eyes closed and enjoying the attention.

“I don’t have long here,” Shepard said and nipped at his mandible tips. “The ambassador is taking me back to the Citadel in three hours.”

“Three hours,” he said with wide eyes. “Is that all we have?”

“Decian, I’m sorry. I have to go see Castor and the others too. I can’t stay.” She looked around. “And I’m not really in the mood for fooling around in a bathroom. I did get knifed, you know.”

“What? Where?” Chellick pulled insistently at her shirt, and she let him pull it up to see for himself.

“Who did this?” he said with narrow eyes.

“A Blue Sun. He’s dead now.”

“Lucky him! I would have ripped his eyes out.”

“Whoa..” Shepard stared at this new aggressive Chellick.

Chellick stared back at her with pain in his eyes.

“I.. You just don’t understand. I almost lost members of my team. I killed someone yesterday. If I’d lost you too, I don’t know what I.. I mean, if you died, I’d..” He couldn't finish the sentence, and Shepard didn’t push him. Instead she pressed against his mouth plates in search of his tongue, and he offered it willingly. He tasted sweet, like she remembered, and she felt a surge of want travel downward. Chellick started breathing heavier, and he subconsciously pressed his groin plates against her.

“Gods, stop, or I’ll ravish you in this dirty place.”

“How awful,” he panted in her ear. “I don’t think I could live with the shame, but I can try.”

They chuckled.

“Can you get to the Citadel when you leave here? I think I’ll be staying there for a while,” Shepard asked and tried to rub his back without touching his waist too much.

“I could do that,” Chellick said thoughtfully. “My uncle works at C-sec, and he’s always happy to see me.”

“Not as happy as I’d be,” she said and dragged a finger along the center spike of his fringe.

“Fa.. family is important,” Chellick purred. “I’m sure my uncle would be pleased with a visit.” He caught her hand and pressed it against his mandible.

“You need to go visit Castor, before you tempt me into more trouble.”

“Can’t help myself around you,” she smiled.

“You might regret those words on the Citadel,” he warned playfully and gave her one last purr before letting her go. “Go, see your squad and come back to say goodbye. I’ll be waiting.”

Chellick followed her out of the bathroom again, and the frightened turian who’d been denied release stood outside, hopping from foot to foot and stared pleadingly at him.

“Oh. Uh, sorry about that. Go ahead,” he said and gave an embarrassed smile.

The first-year ran inside with a look of pure anguish on his face.

“I’m going to remember this,” Shepard grinned. “Decian, ruler of the urinals.”

“Go away, human,” he laughed and gave her a small push. “Before I kidnap you and keep you all to myself.”

“Going already,” she said and picked up the gun case. “Be back before you know it.”

“And I’ll be waiting,” he whispered to himself as he saw her leave. “Always.”

 

**2175 CE – June 02 nd – Sickbay– 19:26 PM**

“Shepard!”

“Sheppie!”

“Shep.”

“Hey you.”

“Hey guys. Aius, I’m not Sheppie, thank you very much,” she grinned.

“What happened?”

“Are you hurt?”

“Did you meet Saren? Isn’t he awesome?”

The cacophony of voices didn’t stop until Liscus, the ever troubled receptionist came and told them to pipe down, could they show a little courtesy, and please behave like normal people/turians, thank you very much. They agreed to be quiet, and Shepard used the small pause to get closer to Castor.

“How’s the arm?”

“It’s gone, sadly,” he said and winked.

“Oh, come on, don’t make me feel horrible for asking,” Shepard winced. “I wanted to know if you’re in pain.”

“No pain, and I got this,” he said and pressed the datapad under her nose. “I didn’t know the Alliance worked as a hospital for turians.”

“So soon,” she burst out. “Udina works fast.”

“I knew it,” Strabo said. “You did something.”

“Guys, come on...”

“Nope, we’ll hound you until you tell the truth. You know we do that,” Mevia grinned.

“Yeah, we will. I got one of these too,” Aius said and flashed his datapad.

“Oh no, what happened to you?”

Aius twitched his mandibles as if he regretted showing her the pad.

“My, uh, my fringe got damaged.”

Shepard knew how traumatic that could be for a turian, and sidled up to Aius, placing an arm around him.

“That’s perhaps a good thing, you were too irresistible as you were.”

“Huh?”

“Long fringe, nice plates, strong muscles, prime Fornax material.”

Aius gaped at her.

“You think so?”

“Oh yes. You’re one gorgeous turian.”

“Oh..” Aius stared vacantly in front of him, lost in his own thoughts.

“Thanks, Shepard,” Strabo muttered. “Now his swollen head won’t fit through the shuttle doors sideways.”

“No problem, Strabo. I aim to please.”

“Enough of that,” Castor implored. “Tell us what happened.”

 

* * *

 

They spent the next hour and a half swapping stories about the exam and its aftermath, until Shepard told them about the deal she’d made that left Garrus’ contribution out of the official story. All of Four went silent as they contemplated what choice they would have made in her place.

“Where is Garrus, by the way. I was hoping he’d walk in here any minute now.”

“We don’t know. He was very upset when he ran out of here.”

“I don’t blame him,” Shepard sighed. “He got a raw deal, again. I got him this,” she said and patted the gun case, “but it’s a poor substitute. He deserved far better.”

She checked the timer on the wall. If she wanted to spend some time with Chellick, she had to leave soon.

“Does anyone have a spare datapad?”

“I have one,” Nirea said and pulled it from her pocket. “Only some geometry stuff there, you can delete it.”

“Great.”

Shepard started writing, and as her thoughts formed, her hands flew over the letters. It ended up rather long, but he had to know. It was the best she could do for now.

“Can you give him this when he shows up? And the rifle?”

“Sure thing,” Argyle said.

“Hey, uh, how about you give us your contact information,” Aius said innocently. “We’re friends, right? Might want to keep in touch.”

“That’s the first useful ting you’ve said all night, dumb gorgeous turian,” Nirea grinned. “I want that info too.”

“Me too.”

“And me.”

“And I want all of yours, too,” Shepard smiled. “We can’t forget each other now.”

“Never.”

After another couple of minutes, they were all updated on extranet addresses, and Shepard reluctantly had to leave. She tried to hide that she was on the verge of crying by turning around and adding her contact info to Garrus’ datapad in hopes he might forgive her. All the while, more than one turian from Four had subvocals that went a little too high on their register.

“Don’t forget about Garrus,” she said and waved at them one last time.

“We won’t,” Castor said.

“Don’t forget about us,” Aius winked.

“As if I could,” she laughed and walked out backwards to see them as long as possible.

 

**2175 CE – June 02 nd – Sickbay– 21:01 PM**

Garrus had seen her leave from the shadows, and the cold resentment he felt had kept him from approaching her. He’d arrived 15 minutes before she’d walked out, and decided to wait outside. It hurt to see her, and he felt anger towards the rest of the squad for laughing and talking to her. When he walked in, they swarmed him.

“Where have you been?”

“You just missed her.”

“She left something for you.”

“Look at this.”

Before he could refuse, a datapad was pressed in his talons, and a large gun case landed on his lap.

“Read it!” Castor pleaded.

“No, open that,” Mevia demanded.

“Read!”

“Open!”

“I’ll decide,” he hissed, and popped the lid off the gun case. The hinges were oiled and smooth, and slid open without a creak. Inside the case was the most advanced sniper rifle he’d ever seen, with a dark metallic blue shine that promised death even when laying quiet in its box. The stock read Rosenkov Materials, Volkov Prototype 2. As soon as the rifle was clear of the lid, his visor started whirring and reconfiguration to suit the software embedded in the rifle. Numbers spun around his vision and it soon became apparent that Shepard had locked the rifle for his use. Large caliber, upgradeable, built in software, userlock, a ton of stuff he didn’t know what was, and even a scope, night- and heat vision and loads he couldn’t read for now. Garrus felt a tinge of excitement until he saw the other name engraved in the stock. _J. Shepard_. He narrowed his eyes.

“What’s this,” Aius said and picked up a small box inside the case. “Epoxy?”

“Gimme that!” Garrus hissed and snatched the putty.

“I wasn’t going to steal it, jerk,” Aius snapped.

“Wow, this must’ve been expensive,” Mevia said in awe. “I’ve never even heard of the prototype 2. Hey, if you don’t want to use a human manufactured weapon, I can buy it from you,” she wheedled.

“Mine,” Garrus hissed. He grabbed onto the gun case and held it like it was treasure.

“I don’t care about the stupid gun,” Castor said and rolled his eyes. “Just read the message.”

“Stupid gun,” Mevia gasped. “This is a work of art. I didn’t even know humans could make something like this.”

“Yeah, a turian could give his left arm for this,” Aius said and stopped himself. “Uh, fuck, sorry, Castor, I didn’t mean..”

“Just shut your trap, gorgeous one, and let Garrus read his message,” Castor said, hiding a smile. Aius really was hopeless.

Garrus’ talons trembled as he started scrolling down the message. He read so fast the words flashed before his eyes.

 

_Dearest friend_

_...never meant to hurt you, but I had to make a choice… Saren’s advice.. The Alliance… families of the dead.. Conatix.. The Hierarchy…. Help for Castor and the others…_ _The truth.. No Shepard without Vakarian.. Your help and your friendship means the world to me.. Hardest choice I ever had to make.. Grateful… Only thing I have to give.. Volkov and thought of you.. thought they would bite my head off… name removed with putty… Hoped to see you.. Understand your anger.. Forgive me.. Feels like betrayal.. No excuse.. Miss you.._

 

The letters swam in front of his eyes. _Miss you. Miss you. Forgive me._ He looked at Castor whom sat with Aius and read his own datapad, the arm stump in a sling on his chest. Had there been another choice to make? Castor felt his gaze and gave him a quizzical look. Garrus quickly shifted his stare back to the datapad. She’d left him her contact information, despite everything. She wanted to be friends. She would miss him. Garrus blinked and gently put the pad and the putty back in the gun case and closed the lid.

“Where’d she go?”

“Who?” Mevia said, deliberately obtuse.

“Shepard, you damn..misfire!”

“Oh, like I’ll tell you now, sulkmaister.”

“She had to go back to the Tai Shan,” Strabo said. “If you’re fast, you might catch her.”

“Watch this,” Garrus said and stuffed the box in Castor’s bed. “I have to go somewhere.”

“Yeah you do,” Nirea grinned and winked at Castor.

Castor ignored her. “Go. I got this.”

Garrus ran out the door, almost knocking over a nurse.

 

Castor allowed himself to open the gun-case and admire the weapon again. Nirea tried to keep herself from looking smug.

“So, uh, anyone want to bet if Garrus makes an ass of himself before Shepard leaves?”

“I think that’s a given,” Argyle smiled.

“I bet Garrus has a thing for Shepard,” Nirea continued.

“Hah, I’ll take that bet,” Aius said. “You lose every time betting against me. After his little affair with _the shrew,”_ he used air quotes for the last words and jerked his head towards Mevia, “I think there can be no doubt that he prefers his own kind.”

“Oh, want a smack in the face, brittle-fringe? I have a bet for you guys. I bet Shepard has an affair with a turian!” Mevia barked.

“What?”

“You’re dreaming!”

“Never happen.”

Mevia exchanged a knowing look with Argyle.

“Well, if she does,” Argyle said casually, “and if Garrus does makes a scene before she leaves, I think a turian boyfriend, well, any boyfriend, would be upset.”

“This is going to be easy credits,” Aius laughed. “And credits only. We don’t know if the vending machines are working tomorrow.”

“Credits it is,” Mevia said.

“I want in on this,” Strabo said. “I say Garrus has a thing for Shepard, but no turian boyfriend for her. We would’ve known.”

“Castor?”

Castor sighed. “I’m not betting on this disaster. Nothing good will come of this, whatever happens.”

“Be like that,” Nirea smiled. “We’ll go find Garrus and watch the calamity unfold.”

 

* * *

 

Garrus had run back to his dorm and collected the large envelope he’d been hiding in his locker for days. Now he had a reason to find her, but where was she? He ran down to the shuttle bay and spotted Emerus, Celsus, and Arista, Shepard's usual dinner crew. After running up to them, he leaned on a column to catch his breath.

“Have you seen Shepard?” he gasped.

“Uh, a while ago,” Emerus said with a sly smile. “I don’t think she wants to be disturbed now.”

“I know she’s with Chellick,” Garrus burst out, “but I need to see her. I have something for her.”

“Ah, well..” Emerus said, but his eyes flicked over to an empty kiosk in a corner.

“Thanks,” Garrus said and ran over. There was a locked door there, but he wasn’t about to let that stop him.

“Shepard?” He banged on the door. “Shepard! Shepard!”

After a lot more knocking, the door jerked open and a very angry turian glared daggers at him.

“What do you want, Vakarian?”

“I need to see her.”

“She’s not.. I mean, who?”

“Don’t try that, I know she’s here.”

“Decian, it’s okay. Give me five minutes.”

Chellick’s green eyes glowed dangerously, but he let Shepard slip passed him. He thrummed at Garrus and left the door slightly ajar, enough for him to peer out and keep an eye on things.

“I was hoping to see you before I left,” Shepard said, smiling warmly. “Did you get the message? And the gun?”

“Yeah, I got it. I just wanted to say, uh.. I think I would’ve made the same choice. I mean, all those people get help, and you got me the sniper rifle. All in all, it could’ve been worse.”

“Rationally, maybe, but it felt like I betrayed you. If I thought I had a better option, I would have taken that.”

“I know. I trust you,” Garrus said, trying to ignore that he’d imagined all sorts of betrayals only hours ago.

“I, uh, I wanted you to have something from me as well.” He held out the envelope and hoped she would not notice his shaking talons.

She flashed him a wide smile and opened it. The drawing was folded in two, and he held his breath while she unfolded it. He held it even longer when her jaw dropped. Through the paper he saw the figure of Shepard floating in a biotic bubble while aiming two pistols at the watcher of the drawing, Garrus himself was up a tower giving cover fire and the rest of Four fanned out on a field below.

“Garrus, this is.. did you do this? It’s amazing!”

He exhaled.

“Yeah, it’s no big thing. Just a few doodles,” he said lightly.

“A few doodles?! Seriously, Garrus, you have a gift. This is.. the most thoughtful gift you could’ve given me. Thank you!”

She carefully folded the drawing back in the envelope, laid it down on the counter and moved to hug him. Garrus almost dived into her arms, placing his hands where he knew it wouldn’t hurt and held on for a long time.

“I’ll be on the Citadel sometimes,” he said muffled in her neck.

“You got my contact information, so we’ll meet up when we can,” she said against his neck. Her breath on his soft neck hide made his plates stir.

When she released him, Garrus started skipping from one foot to the other, nervous as a fledgling.

“But, uh, you haven’t got my contact info,” he said insistingly. “You have to write it down.”

“I can do that,” Shepard smiled and got out a datapad. “What’s your address?”

He painstakingly narrated his home address and extranet address, feeling more and more foolhardy and careless. She’d done it to him, hadn’t she? It was only fair he could do it back, right? Or would he ruin everything? One more time. One last time. He resolved to do it in the blink of an eye.

“I think I got-...” Shepard said, then Garrus pressed his mouth plates against her lips and snaked his tongue in her mouth, giving it a gentle suck before pulling away and escaping.

And not a moment too soon.

“Vakarian!” Chellick bellowed. “Fucking pervert! I’ll kill you!” He tore the door off its hinges and ran after the younger turian, hurling death threats and swearing like a batarian pirate.

Shepard ducked down behind the counter and tried to hide. Arista, Celsus and Emerus started laughing uncontrollably and walked over to the kiosk bent double.

Shepard rubbed her eyes in mortification when a familiar voice make her heart sink like a stone.

“Really, Shepard, your affair with recruit Chellick is becoming the worst kept secret on the station.” Saren stood leaned up against a pillar and observed them. Shepard jumped to her feet, red in the face at being busted so thoroughly.

“Sir! I didn’t know you were still here.”

“I’m leaving in an hour. Well done with the ambassador, even if I think you’re selling yourself a bit cheaply.”

“Thank you, I think.”

“That concludes _our_ business, Shepard.” He turned to the trio of turians.

“Say, would you be Arista Nerva?” he said to the female turian.

“Yes I am.” Arista grabbed Emerus' hand.

“Oh, not to worry, citizen Nerva. I’ve been asked by the company which sponsors your wonderful project to give you a lift back to the Citadel. It will give us time to discuss your future.”

Arista’s eyes widened, and she looked around at them. Emerus nudged her encouragingly, and Celsus and Shepard both nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh. I will fetch my things and be right back.”

“I’ll help,” Emerus said and followed her back to the barracks.

“Have a good trip, Shepard, Corinthus the younger.” Saren turned halfway away, then turned back.

“If you have previously kept your lovelife from your squad, that has now failed,” he said and pointed to some hunched figures behind some potted trees in the hallway. “Turians don’t really know when to duck.”

She could make out the figures of Mevia, Nirea and Strabo, and had no doubt Argyle and Aius was in there somewhere.

“Fuck..”

“Yes, I assume there’s been a lot of that,” Saren said sarcastically and left.

“I hate this station,” she told Celsus, who patted her consolingly on the back.

“You can at least leave today,” he laughed. “I have to keep Decian from killing Vakarian until our shuttle leaves.”

 

* * *

 

When Garrus had eluded Chellick, or maybe the older turian had relented and gone back to his girlfriend, he stumbled in to Castor’s room where the others were gathered, and was met with laughter and glares.

“Wow. That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen,” Mevia said, waggling her mandibles.

“A wonder he didn’t kill you,” Strabo said sourly. “I can’t believe Shepard is dating a turian. I lost a lot of credits on that.”

“I won some, and I lost some,” Nirea sighed.

Only Aius was disturbingly quiet. He was pondering an idea that hadn’t completely taken shape yet.

“Did you really press your mouth plates on Shepard?” Castor asked.

“Yeah,” Garrus said, half proud and half ashamed. “It’s called a kiss. Humans do it all the time.”

“Humans do it all the time with their mates,” Argyle said grinning. “Last I checked, Shepard is not your mate.”

“Not yet,” Garrus shrugged. A move he’d picked up from Shepard.

“Here’s the thing,” Aius said slowly, light dawning in his eyes. “You like Shepard, right? And I like Shepard. And I had a picture of Shepard that disappeared...” He turned his golden eyes on Garrus, who’d gotten back on his feet.

“Now, Aius..”

“And you knew where I kept that picture at night,” he growled menacingly.  
“Listen, Aius..”

“And in the morning it was gone..”

“That was..”

“I never suspected you, because you said liking humans was sick,” Aius said and stood up. “But now I get it.”

“I can explain,” Garrus said and backed away.

“Can you?”

Garrus fumbled behind him and found the door opener.

“Uh, no, but I can run. Bye!”

“Vakarian!” Aius yelled and stormed after him. “Thief! Marauder!”

Running footsteps down the hall and the clang of metal told the remaining members of Four that tables and bedpans were overturned in the mad pursuit.

“Spirits, I told you nothing good would come of the betting,” Castor said and dropped back on his bed.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Strabo chuckled. “I’m going to miss this, actually.”

“Me too,” Nirea said.

“Hey, us turians have one year of boot left,” Strabo said, but stopped when he saw Mevia and Argyle.

“Don’t worry about us,” Argyle smiled. “Mevia loves me so much she will wait until the return of the Titans to be with me. And boot is only another year.”

“And how much do you love me?” Mevia asked suspiciously.

“Enough to send you a nude photo every now and then.”

“Ew,” she chuffed and poked his ribs. “No thanks.”

“I do love you, my stubborn little turian,” Argyle said and kissed her in front of everyone. Only he could call Mevia little. Argyle had grown as large as a small pony, with muscles to fit the frame. Even Castor had cast the occasional glance at his form when he was in the shower.

“I hope Garrus survives tonight,” Nirea said. “Who would we bet on otherwise.”

“Within one year he has a human girlfriend that is not Shepard,” Mevia offered.

“With that level of obsession? Never. You’re on.”

“Spirits, take me to the afterlife now,” Castor sighed. “I think visiting hour was over hours ago.”

“All right, all right, we’re going.”

“I’m betting Garrus isn’t sleeping in his own bunk tonight, but hides somewhere on the station,” Argyle said as they walked towards the door.

“Get out!”

“Okay, okay. See you tomorrow.”

 

When they all were gone, Castor picked up the datapad and checked the information again. He really was getting a new arm this summer, and could continue boot with the others. A human had done this for him. A human he’d been scared of the first months he’d known her. His family on Taetrus was wrong. Aliens weren’t all bad. Not salarians, and not even humans. He rolled on his side so that his missing arm was higher and propped the sheets and pillows so that he wouldn’t roll back during the night. With one arm it was a bit of a struggle, but he could deal with it for a month or two. When he closed his eyes to sleep, it was in the knowledge that his friends were around to help him, and that he soon would see Ravarn again.

 

* * *

 

After Chellick had ended his pursuit of Garrus, he’d returned to grumble and complain in Shepard’s ear for the few minutes she had left, and only the promise of a speedy rendezvous calmed him enough to stop growling. A few more kisses and discreet waist fondling, and he was almost in a good mood again. When she waved goodbye in front of the air sluice, she could almost feel her heart break, but the promise of meeting on the Citadel in a few days held her upright. She stepped into the sluice and moved her hand to the button to start the sterilization process when she was grabbed by the shoulder and yanked out of the room.

“Shepard, we need to talk,” a voice growled behind her, and the tremble in her right hand began instantly.

_Vyrnnus had found her._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have an early release again, but this time it's because I'm feeling better and had time to write :)
> 
> A longer chapter this time, hopefully it's not too long, but there was a lot happening on the station before Shepard was ready to leave. What will happen between her and her nemesis? You'll find out next week ;)
> 
> Oh, and I broke 200 000 words! Woohoo! XD


	43. Unshackling a beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and Vyrnnus has a heart to heart, and Shepard is learning more disturbing things about herself. On top of that, can she trust Saren?

Vyrnnus was having a very bad day. His first attempt at copying the station’s master drive had failed when he was summoned by Saren to a meeting, and when he arrived at the conference room, another message told him the meeting was canceled and that the Shepard-situation would soon be solved and the human sent on her way. That was not welcome news. He needed to assure that she kept her mouth shut before going back to her own people. The ramifications of her blabbing about the last months of training to the Alliance would not bear thinking of, and could derail his agreement with the councilor. When he arrived back at the core there was a shift in the guards and he managed to slip past them easily. Inside the core’s antechamber, he pulled out the graybox hidden in his pocket and plugged it into the drive. The messenger who’d delivered the box had been disposed of discreetly on Omega. Vyrnnus had no intention of implanting it in his head, but the heavy encryption on these boxes made them ideal for this kind of work.

When he was inside the system, he ticked the information those Hierarchy cretins would be most interested in, but noticed that there was suspiciously lack of data in the hospital records. Almost as if someone had deleted huge chunks of it. Vyrnnus scoffed and continued the download. That information was not the most crucial, but the training data, the student assessments and biotics research by Conatix was his primary goal, and that was still available. The graybox blinked as the data transferred, and shortly after it was done, Vyrnnus headed back out and sidled between the patrolling guards. If he’ d been in charge of station, these guards would’ve be en killed, but as it were, their negligence worked to his advantage. That was one problem taken care of. Now for the other one. _Where was Shepard?_

 

* * *

 

The sensation of three talons burrowed in her shoulder was disturbingly familiar, and she stumbled forward as Vyrnnus steered her to an empty arrival chamber. Whatever he wanted, it would not be pleasant. It never was.

“We need to have a little chat about our time together here before you leave,” he said and pushed her into the middle of the room. The chamber was designed for the smaller shuttles, and was circular and surrounded by columns. Now that it was empty besides the two of them, his voice rang with an echo that made him sound a lot more sizable than he was.

“You might think it would be a good idea to tell the Alliance or other people about your.. special training as soon as you’re gone from here,” he continued. “I’m here to inform you why that would be an abysmal judgment on your part.”

Shepard felt a hint of self-righteous smugness behind all her fear. The commander was worried.

“Why, do you feel like you’ve done something wrong?”

“You’re the one that did something wrong, Shepard, or have you forgotten? Nearly causing the death of another student? Hardly the reputation you’d want to spread, even after your little moment of triumph on Eden Prime.”

She knew he was right, and she hated him for it. Regardless of her own mistreatment, she’d almost killed Garrus, that part was still irrefutably true.

“I remember, sir. I also know that I’ve taken my punishment for that. It’s over.”

“Is it?” Vyrnnus cocked his head and observed her closely.

“Yes. I just want to leave. I have no wish to make any trouble.”

That was no lie. She had nothing to gain from revealing it, besides as an explanation for all the scars that covered her body, and she could always come up with another one for that. Falling through glass during training or something. For some reason, the image of Saren kept popping up in her head. Do it smart, leverage. What did the commander want besides her silence? Shepard could think of nothing. She had nothing he wanted. The trembling in her hand was increasing, and she balled her fist to stop it.

“That came much too quick for my tastes, recruit. I think you’ll liable to flap those lips as soon as the Tai Shan has left dock.” He walked towards her, and to her shame, she instinctively shied away from him and walked backwards to avoid him until her back hit a concrete column.

“Now isn’t that strange.” Vyrnnus raised his hand and stroked two talons down her cheek. “I’ve heard that you like getting intimate with turians.”

She jerked her head up, and one of his talons scratched her. A small trickle of blood trailed down her face.

“Whoops. That can happen when you fuck with a turian. Humans are so soft,” he smiled and leaned down to smell her hair. “So many scars..” He grinned. “Imagine how many times ‘that Shepard-female’ has bedded a turian to achieve all those,” Vyrnnus said in a mock tone, before turning serious.

“If you talk about our training, I’ll make sure your affair with that fledgling makes the main Citadel newsreel. If you slander my name in any way, your attempted murder and sexual deviancy will make headlines in Alliance space for years. Understood?” He pressed up against her and ran his tongue up her neck.

Shepard stood frozen and felt the commander’s unwelcome tongue traverse her skin, but it was Saren’s face that again appeared in her mind.

_‘..clearly didn’t register, null and void, humans..’_

The missing pieces slid into their rightful places, and a different kind of chill spread in her body. She curtly placed a hand on Vyrnnus’ chest and pushed him away.

“Hmm? Not interested? Just as well. Might have difficulties unplating,” he said scornfully and ran his eyes over her body. She ignored him.

“You’ve had your say, I’ll have mine.”

As she raised her hand, she noticed the trembling was gone.

“Shepard, don’t even-..”

She locked him in a biotic hold and held him aloft for several seconds, savoring his helpless anger before slamming the commander into the nearest pillar with tremendous force.

“Aaauughh!”

“Didn’t quite catch that,” Shepard said and lifted the squirming Vyrnnus back up, pulled him away and slammed him back into the pillar. There was a loud snap. He screamed and clutched his fringe. A thin blue stripe streamed down the column.

“Whoops. That can happen when you deal with humans, you know. Those damn deviants.”

Shepard felt the same cold control she usually had on a battlefield. Vyrnnus could no longer order her. She didn’t have to obey him, and he’d spent months teaching her to use her abilities with deadly effect. How very.. ironic.

“Shepard,” he growled and raised a hand.

She hit him with stasis, and he froze there, crouched on the ground. She cocked her head and knelt down beside him.

“Yes, I fuck turians, you’ve got me there,” she said and stared straight into those glaring hateful eyes. “That would not be beneficial to me to have made public. But these scars,” she pulled up her sleeve so he could see, “are too deep and too numerous to be the result of consensual sex, even with a turian.”

She saw his eyes narrow, and gave him a distant knowing smile.

“Yes, many people would believe your story, but the important point is the one person that would not.”

She flashed him her widest cruelest grin.

“Rear-admiral Hannah Shepard, commander of the SSV Orizaba.”

Vyrnnus eyes widened, and she knew she’d struck gold.

“Do you think anything would save you from her wrath? My mother almost killed Saren Arterius in hand to hand combat, she hates turians more than anything in this galaxy, and she would have no qualms about searching you out and killing you on sight.”

She scooted a bit closer and whispered in his ear.

“And I haven’t even mentioned my krogan uncles. The deadliest mercenaries available for credits, very nice guys. I bet I could ask them to use their fringe hammer on you before they offed you, a memento from the krogan wars.”

Vyrnnus swallowed, and Shepard decided to stop while she was ahead.

“It’s in both our best interest to keep our mouths shut, wouldn’t you say?” She got back up.

“I’ll deactivate the stasis, but if you come after me before 10 minutes have passed, we’ll have to do this again. Got it?”

He glared at her and growled deep in his throat.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

She dropped him and he moaned in pain, holding his fringe, but still staring at her. Shepard glared right back. It was easy when there was no rules, and she felt no compunction for shattering one of his fringe spikes. In truth, it had felt good, to a worrisome degree.

“If I ever see you again outside this station, I’ll kill you.”

“Same here,” Vyrnnus snarled, but he stayed put.

Shepard walked hurriedly out of the chamber and back to the air sluice. Before she could enter, she heard a strange tapping on her right side. When she turned it was Saren, tapping his talons on a metal beam.

“Very well done, Shepard, even if I thought you were getting another boyfriend there for a moment,” he smiled.

“And I suppose you were only waiting for the right moment to intervene?” she snapped.

“Spirits, was I? Surely not.”

“Goodbye, Arterius,” Shepard hissed and moved to leave.

“Shepard!” The warning in his voice was unmistakable, and she stopped.

“You did well in there, but sparing your enemies is rarely the wisest course. Killing him might have been the better option, considering what you did to him.”

She crossed her arms and smiled sarcastically.

“Really? Do you have spare room on your ship for a dead body? Because that might’ve caused a problem.”

Saren laughed.

“I don’t have to hide bodies, I’m a Spectre. For reasons of my own, I’m glad you didn’t kill the bastard, but you need to be on guard now. Don’t trust strangers.”

“Fine.”

“And get yourself an omni-tool, I might have found a partial solution for you.”

“A solution? What?”

“I said might. Run along, human. Don’t want to keep your dreadnought waiting.” He stepped back into the shadows and disappeared.

Shepard almost ran into the sluice and slammed the button repeatedly to make sure she wasn’t followed. She made a mental note of telling Udina that Despan Vyrnnus was not part of the turians that would get medical assistance from the Alliance, and request an omni-tool. It would be a long trip back to the Citadel, and she really wanted to be connected to the ship’s extranet access.

 

**2175 CE – June 04 th  – Tai Shan – Shepard's Room – 03:15 AM**

<Capt.D.Corinthus - Doric>: _#Image of vintage Horosk_

 

**2175 CE – June 04 th  – Tai Shan – Shepard's Room – 15:15 PM**

_< Dr.P.Publius – Dr.Publius>:_ Recruit Shepard, are you there?

_< J.Shepard – Me>_:How did you get my address? Has anything happened on the station?

_ <Dr.Publius>_: Saren gave it to me. Besides the commander showing up here with a broken fringe? Nothing at all.

_ <Me>:_ What does that have to do with me? Saren is everywhere...

_ <Dr.Publius>:_ Besides the fact that he threatened to kill you? Nothing at all. And yes he is.

_ <Me>:_ You know how it is, a death threat here, a death threat there...

_ <Dr.Publius>:_ Actually, I do.

_ <Dr.Publius>:_ Shepard, I have inserted an encrypted attachment with all the research I did on your blood. The key will be delivered to you on a secure Citadel Embassy terminal when you log in as yourself.

_ <Me>:_ That’s a lot of secrecy for a little blood.

_ <Dr.Publius>:_ Yes it is. It also contains a few of my conjectures on how to alleviate ‘odor.’ I seem to remember that was a problem.

_ <Me>: _ Those damned feet..

_ <Dr.Publius>:_ Indeed. I suspect we will never see each other again. Live well, Shepard.

_ <Me>:_ You too, doctor Publius. I’m glad to have met you. Farewell.

 

**2175 CE – June 05 th  – Tai Shan – Shepard's Room – 07:55 AM**

_ <H.Shepard – Mom>: _ Hi Jane, I was just briefed about the attack. Been on a mission. Are you all right?’

_ <J.Shepard – Me>:_ I’m fine. Small injury, pretty much all healed. On my way to the Citadel on the Tai Shan.’

_ <Mom>:_ Will arrive in week or two, have borrowed apartment from Uncle David, you will stay there until I arrive.

_ <Me>:_ Great! Wild parties every night. Thanks mom.

_ <Mom>:_ Dream on, Jane. I expect you to behave.

_ <Me>:_ Yeah, yeah. I know. Killjoy..

_ <Mom>:_ Heard a rumor about a certain Russian bound for the Citadel.

_ <Me>:_ Is Dmitri coming?!

_ <Mom>:_ There are so many Russians in the world..

_ <Me>: _ Mom!!

_ <Mom>:_ Ship won’t pilot itself. Got to go. Behave!

_ <Me>:_ Mothers…

_ <Mom>:_ Brats..

_ <Me>:_ Haha.

 

**2175 CE – June 06 th – Tai Shan – Shepard's Room –09:16 AM**

_ <G.Vakarian – Garrus>:_ Hello, Shepard? Are you there?

_ <J.Shepard – Me>:_ I’m here. Have you all left the station?

_ <Garrus>:_ Everyone from Four. The first-years left first, the next shuttle will pick up.. the older turians.

_ <Me>: _So, about that goodbye..

_ <Garrus>:_ The spirits made me do it!

_< Me>:_ sdfdalnveppov

_ <Garrus>:_ I don’t understand.

_< Me>: _A small cough. All right, as long as the spirits got that out of their system…

_ <Garrus>:_ Fair enough. Castor and the other says hi, and Aius says he’s an idioPFJIGONRGONRFVKLCXVNF

_ <Garrus>: _Sorry , something fell on me.

_ <Me>:_ I completely understand. Tell the others hi from me. Even the self professed idiot.

_ <Garrus>:_ Will do. How long will you be on the Citadel?

_ <Me>:_ Until my mother comes back. 1-2 weeks maybe.

_< Garrus>: _I’m coming to the Citadel in 2-3 weeks to visit my dad. Perhaps we can meet? If you’re still there, I mean.

_ <Me>:_ I’d love to. You can tell me how the gun fires and if you’re happy with it.

_< Garrus>:_ Mevia and Aius tried to steal it twice already. They’re spying on my messages now. Talk later?

_ <Me>: _Anytime I’m online.

_ <Garrus>:_ Okay, thanks. Bye. _#Image attached- Group holo._

 

**2175 CE – June 06 th  – Tai Shan – Shepard's Room – 14:13 PM**

_ <Special Tactics and Reconnaissance/Infiltrator>: _Secure connection: Allow/Disallow

_< J.Shepard – Me>:_ **Allow**

_ <S.Arterius – Saren>:_ Shepard.

_ <Me>:_ Gods, it’s you again.

_ <Saren>: _Oh, do say Saren. We know each other so well.

_ <Me>:_ I’m getting to know about you, all right...

_ <Saren>:_ You wound me, Shepard, and I’ve worked so hard trying to find a solution for you.

_< Me>: _You strong-armed some poor sap that owes you a favor, more like it.

_ <Saren>:_ I haven’t given you the solution yet.

_< Me>:_ … Sorry…

_< Saren>: _As it happens, I do have a ‘friend’ on the Citadel that might help you. Her name is Sha’ira, and has some experience in these matters. She resides on the Presidium, near the financial district. _#Added address._

_ <Me>:_ What are her qualifications? Is she a doctor?

_< Saren>:_ Her abilities are.. unique. I trust she’ll be able to make a dent in that thick head of yours.

_< Me>:_ No wonder she does you favors with that amount of charm..

_< Saren>: _I know. Go see her. Or not. It’s not my future.

_< Special Tactics and Reconnaissance/Infiltrator>:_ **Disconnected**

 

**2175 CE – June 12 th – David Anderson’s apartment – 11:19 AM**

The large windows in the apartment allowed her a fair view of the city, but Shepard had no interest in the scenery. She laid on her back in the sofa with her legs over the armrest, playing with the omni-tool. There was still no word from Decian, and she’d sent messages to Dmitri that bounced back to her as if the address were defunct. She’d walked around the city for days, but after seeing her own face flashing on copious ad-terminals, spouting Udina’s pro-human rhetoric, she’d lost interest in that too. The only fortunate thing about this whole situation was that her face had been primed and puffed to suit the ambassador’s ideal image of a female soldier, and without all that grout in her face, she was almost unrecognizable and could walk around with relative freedom. Some of that freedom had been spent on the human Embassy, downloading the doctors thesis on human/turian bonding and a few methods to mitigate the smell of turian semen. Shepard had managed to procure a few encrypted datapads to hide this information on, and luckily, all the doctor’s data was made anonymous. Even is the information were to be discovered, it would not identify her. It would brand her as a pervert, sure, but not a degenerate turianfucker. Small blessings.

Right now, though, that was irrelevant. Her mother had sent a message and said the Orizaba would arrive in about a week, and unless Decian showed up, it could be months, likely a year until she saw him again. She’d avoided going to Sha’ira because she didn’t want her head muddled before dealing with Udina, then she’d avoided going there because she wanted a clear head before meeting Decian, but time was running out. With a groan she rolled out of the sofa and stretched her legs. Visiting any friend of Saren was very low on her list of things she wanted to do, but she’d postponed it long enough. It was t ime to visit the mysterious Sha’ira.

 

* * *

 

The place itself had been easy to find, but when she stood in the queue moving slowly toward the entrance , Shepard was very uneasy. This looked like a place where sailors and financiers with too much free money on their hands went to blow their credits on a piece of asari ass, but with more class. The closer she got to the asari receptionist, the more nervous she got. Was this Saren’s way of joking, sending her to an upper class whorehouse to see what she’d do? Before Shepard had made up her mind to leave , there was a sudden jump in the line and she found herself in front of the asari receptionist.

“Hello. I am Nelyna. I don’t recognize you as one of our expected clients today. Would you like me to see when the consort will be able to meet with you?”

The asari was friendly, but Shepard still felt like a fish out of water.

“Uhm, no, I have an appointment, sort of. Saren Arterius told me to-...”

The receptionist held up a hand and beamed in a disconcerting way.

“Oh yes. The consort has been expecting you. Your mutual friend said you might be a little shy.”

“Shy?”

“There’s no need to worry, the consort will receive you shortly. Please sit down and wait.”

Nelyna gently guided Shepard inside, and she craned her neck to glimpse the clientele inside. Salarians, turians, asari, even a volus. Business was booming, whatever this consort did. Shepard’s preoccupation with the people on the sides kept her from seeing the dark-plated turian that rushed straight for the exit and slammed into her shoulder.

“Be careful,” he growled and continued his march.

Nelyna steadied Shepard and pulled her onward.

“You must forgive general Oraka, he’s had great.. disappointment in his life recently.”

“No harm done,” Shepard said and sat down.

“Oh, good. Just you wait here, and she’ll call for you soon.”

 

Judging by the extravagant interior of the establishment, the consort was in no need of credits , and judging by the kind of people waiting around and being attended by acolytes, there would be no shortages any time soon. Nelyna came with a cold beverage, and Shepard gave her a grateful smile. It was rather hot in here. Ten minutes passed, and Shepard was becoming painfully aware of the volus breathing heavily in the corner, staring right at her. Granted, a volus’s breath would always sound more loud than other aliens, but this one was becoming.. eerily perverse . It was a balm when Nelyna arrived again and told her to go upstairs to meet with the consort.

The door was open when she arrived, and with uncustomary timidness Shepard entered the large room of the asari known as the consort.

“That isn’t close enough, Jane Shepard, come closer.”

Sha’ira sashayed into view, hips swaying seductively. If she’d been into women, Shepard would have been more affected with the sex appeal that simply oozed of this asari, but as it were, she simply made a mental note of it.

“Uh, Saren Arterius,” she began, but Sha’ira simply smiled and patted the sofa cushion next to her. Shepard knew they were also called love seats, and sat down with a firm grip around the armrest.

The consort laughed, a gentle soothing titter and put one hand on Shepard’s forearm.

“No need to be nervous. He told me about your.. incident . More than he told you, I’m sure.”

Shepard snorted.

“No doubt. Never known that turian to tell the whole truth.”

“Well, we’ll have none of that here. Whatever I find out about you, I will tell you.”

“What you find out about me? Am I supposed to tell you everything that happened to me, and you’ll take down notes and analyze it? Like a therapist?” Shepard gave her a concerned look.

Again Sha’ira laughed, and patted Shepard's arm.

“I’m an asari, no need for all the talk. I can see everything like you saw it, if you allow it.”

“You mean that asari thing your people do?”

“Yes, a mind meld. It will help me understand wh ere your instructor failed, and how to rectify it.”

“He failed? Failed in what?” Shepard stared at the consort.

“Saren didn’t tell.. Of course he didn’t,” Sha’ira sighed. “Training with pain and extreme mental duress is part of the turian Cabals. If done correctly, a proficient turian can ignore pain and injury, and fight to the death. If the training fails, the turian will attack friend or foe at random. Like you did.”

Shepard shuddered.

“That day.. it was like they were all training targets, they weren’t real, and I was back in the simulator.”

“And that’s why your mind pressed you to kill them. Now, will you allow the meld?”

Shepard studied the asari’s face. She was one of Saren’s allies, or at least his associate. Letting somebody rummage inside her head sounded like a very bad idea, but this was another situation where either choice could lead to disaster.

“About.. about any other stuff you find inside my head, what will you do about that?”

Sha’ira smiled.

“Saren did inform me that you had some unusual taste in males , and that you might refuse the meld because of it. I pride myself in discretion and diplomacy. I would never reveal the secrets of any client, regardless of circumstance. Even if Saren has arranged this meeting, I will not reveal any more to him than you allow of what transpires here.”

Something about her tone and body language convinced Shepard that what the consort was telling was mostly truth, but she kept something back. The hunch might be wrong, but she urgently needed whatever help the asari could provide. The fallout could be dealt with later.

“All right. I’ll allow it.”

“Good. Turn around and face me. Relax,” she said softly and took Shepard's face in both hands.

“Relaaaax….”

Shepard loosened her shoulders and neck muscles, allowing Sha’ira to be in control.

“Good… and now.. Embrace eternity! ”

The consort’s eyes went black and sucked Shepard into a place beyond consciousness, beyond words, beyond time . She was hurled along memories she’d tried to forget, the first searing cut from Vyrnnus, firing a rifle at the images of her mother and Four, the sound of her ribs breaking, coughing blood on the floor, everything flew past at lightening speed. She was unable to hinder the flashing memories, unable to block, the consort’s probing mind could not be stopped. Shepard screamed into the soundless void, trying to regain some semblance of self, feeling utterly naked and bared to her core. As she plunged downwards a spiraling chasm, there was a sudden jolt, and it felt like being reversed and turned inside out. The consort’s mind wrenched her out from the dark passageway and threw her back into the bright room, and Shepard was herself again, sitting beside Sha’ira on the couch. The consort’s eyes blinked, and her eyes returned to their azure shine. Shepard dry-heaved for several minutes, trying to keep down the beverage from earlier. Never again, she swore inwardly. Never.

“I apologize,” Sha’ira said. “Some people react more intensely than others to the embrace.”

“Really?” Shepard managed. “You didn’t think to mention this before your eyes went dark?”

“Preparations would not have mattered,” Sha’ira countered. “One either reacts, or one doesn’t.”

“Besides rattling every bone in my body, did you find something useful in there?” Shepard said, trying to steer the conversation away from the incensing topic.

“Yes. I have tended to the matter.”

“You have what? I said you could look, not poke around and make changes!” Shepard snapped between heaves.

“Would you have liked to do this again?” Sha’ira asked with annoying clarity.

“You’ve still meddled with my head without permission!” Shepard seethed. “How am I going to know how much of what I do now is my, or yours, or even worse, Saren’s ideas?”

The consort got up and walked to the other side of the room, and Shepard got the impression she wanted safe distance between them.

“I have a confession to make. The block I’ve placed was Saren’s idea.”

“Fucking turian,” Shepard spat. “And you, you’re nothing but a common wh-..”

“Be VERY careful with your next words!” Sha’ira barked, flaring a large biotic charge.

Shepard immediately followed with a shield, brimming with power.

“Go ahead,” she snarled. “Do you want to see what I’ve learned in person?”

The consort kept her charge up while she considered this, then with a sigh dissolved her biotics.

“I suppose you’re allowed one eruption. But no more.”

“How generous,” Shepard replied sourly. “Don’t trust strangers, Saren himself told me. Should’ve listened.”

“Listen to me now, not Saren ,” Sha’ira said. “Only proper training in the cabalite assassin style can make the technique work as it is intended. In the meantime, I’ve blocked the pain trigger. You will be able to endure physical pain like a normal human, or as close to a normal human as I can guess. For mental pain, well.. I’ve tried to help, but I’m unsure if it’ll work. Saren asks for much, sometimes too much.”

“Oh, I’m aware of that..”

“Then you know I had little choice. My promise still stands, though. I will only tell him as much as you allow.”

Shepard had tried to ignore the ringing in her ears for some time, but they grew louder for every second, and she felt nauseated. The big bed in Anderson’s apartment was the only thing she wanted at this moment . Fuck Saren and fuck this nutty asari.

“Tell that bastard whatever you want, and tell him I hope his cock withers. I’m going home.”

That made Sha’ira chuckle, and she smiled at the irate human.

“I see something in you, Shepard. Something hard, raw, unfinished, but forming. Beware the sliver of savagery that has taken root in your soul. It may give you strength, or it will destroy you. Regardless, I have a feeling we will meet again some day.”

“May the gods preserve me from the pleasure,” Shepard murmured and shuffled out of the consort’s chambers. Only time would tell if the asari had lied about how much she’d scrambled Shepard’s mind, and that time was better spent away from this place and its infuriating residents.

 

**2175 CE – June 13 th – David Anderson’s apartment – 08:47 AM**

The small buzz from the omni-tool woke her, and Shepard moaned in protest. Thrice cursed thing. Had it no compassion for the suffering she’d been put through yesterday? The damn contraption ought to be smashed against the wall. Still under the sheet, she deactivated the alarm clock and glanced at her messages. Castor had sent his operation date, June 24th,, and a holo of him and a dark gray salarian, grinning like crazy, titled ‘My chatterbox, ow, stop poking me.’ She chuckled at that and wished she’d be here that long, but it was unlikely. More holos of her friends, Aius working out almost naked, Nirea and her.. brother? Argyle and Mevia doing..? Oh gods, was that what she and Decian looked like when they did that? Ew.

Strabo’s holo showed him in a meadow on Palaven, waving at the camera. Garrus hadn’t sent a holo, just a message saying he’d be on the Citadel in seven days, and could they meet up? She pressed reply and answered that she was still on the Citadel, and she would be happy to see him if she was still here. The answer came almost immediately, like he’d been waiting for it.

_< Garrus>:_ Great! Can’t wait to tell you about the gun. Have to go, promised my sister to teach her to shoot.

Shepard smiled. She’d have to be a little careful not to give him any more ideas, but Garrus had become a valued friend and comrade. This infatuation, as Saren had called it, would burn out when he found a nice turian female to dote on. And speaking of doting turians.. there was an active message from Decian!

_ < D.Chellick – Decian>:_ Arriving on Citadel today at 12:30. Comm buoy on shuttle damaged, could not send any messages until now. Received yours all at once. Don’t tell me you’ve run off with a human? Please?

_< J.Shepard – Me>:_ Not yet, but thinking about it.

_ <Decian>: _ Noo! Be there soon. As humans say, keep it in your pants.

_< Me>:_ Who says I’m wearing pants?

_< Decian>:_ You’re awful. Payback coming soon.

_< Me>:_ I hope so. Meet you at C-sec entrance?

_ <Decian>: _ Not the best idea. My uncle works there, remember? Meet me here 12:45. #Address added.

_< Me>:_ Fifteen minutes after your shuttle arrives? Planning on running all the way?

_ < Decian >:_ Skycar, silly human. Be there?

_< Me>:_ Wouldn’t miss it for the world. See you there. Love you.

_ <Decian>: _ Can’t wait. Love you too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are again with an early release, and no cliffhanger. The promise of light smut is not a cliffhanger, I'll die for that at the stake :D  
> (I know I hinted at turian hankypanky in this chapter, but sadly, there was no room.. Next chapter tho..)
> 
> And some characters with humps will shortly reintroduce themselves, as will a certain Russian OC.. 
> 
> On a latter note, my problem with the copy/paste is back, now it's splitting words, moving commas and punctuation, AND I've had to fix this chapter three times because every time I was fixing the set-up and saved, AO3 slapped me with bold setting for every.goddamn.sentence! WTF!  
> So if you see any mistakes, let me know, I'll try to fix, but I don't trust the system, not after saving my drafts and having them ruined twice!


	44. Bonds, old and new

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and Chellick has a reunion, and from that several others will spring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut alert!  
> I know some of you like it, and some of you don't, so for those of you that don't, you can skim through to 14:08 PM. For the rest of you, enjoy the entire chapter ;)

**2175 CE – June 13 th – Outside Venari Pallin’s apartment – 12:48 PM**

Shepard tried to make herself look as inconspicuous as possible outside the big apartment building. This was one of the better parts of the Citadel, and many city officials were coming and going from the guarded gate. How on earth would she enter without making a scene?

A skycar landed in the street, and a beige turian stepped out and pulled a large backpack over his shoulder. Shepard strolled over with a huge grin.

“Excuse me, random turian, do you have the time?”

Chellick chuckled and turned around.

“Indeed I do, arbitrary human whom I don’t know.”

She grinned wider, but knew better than to try and hug him out here.

“So, how were you planning on smuggling me inside?”

“I’ll go in first, say that I’m expecting a messenger in a few minutes and they’re to send you straight up.”

“Well, that’s.. easy and plausible. I didn’t know you were smart?”

“Oh, that remark, and so many others, will be paid in full as soon as I get you inside,” Chellick promised with a hungry look in his eyes. “Do as you’re told, human. You’re in the presence of a superior intellect now.”

That caused Shepard to have a laughing fit, and Chellick had to slap her back to stop her from choking.

“Yeah, yeah, Wait here for 10 minutes, then come to the reception and say you have a delivery for me in apartment 105, okay?”

“By your command, superior one,” Shepard grinned.

 

His plan went off without a hitch and Shepard found herself outside apartment 105 in no time. She only had time to knock once before the door was yanked open and she was dragged inside and ensnared in a turian embrace, which in her opinion was much better than the asari one. She barely glimpsed the large living room before being carted into a bedroom.

Chellick purred and nipped at her neck while already attacking the zipper in her suit.

“Too many clothes,” he complained loudly. “Off, Off!”

“Speak for yourself,” she said and pulled at his shirt. “I want to see plates.”

“See, touch, feel, you can have anything,” he purred and unclasped the bindings, letting the shirt fall. Shepard was on him instantly, running her fingers on the hide between the chest plates and caressing his waist. A small chirp escaped his mouth plates when her cold fingers touched him, and he glared at her. She shrugged innocently, and he knew it was entirely on purpose.

“Loose the fabric, Jane, unless you want to walk home naked tomorrow…”

“Gluttonous turian, you’ll take even the clothes off my back?”

“I will have everything,” he growled and pulled at her shirt. She raised her hands in defeat and let him snatch it away.

“And the chest harness. I want that too.”

“You should get your own, I’d love to see that,” she said and wriggled out of the bra.

“Buy me one, and I’ll think on it.”

Chellick snuck behind her and put his arms around her, also cupping her breasts. He’d blunted his talons for her, so he could play more freely with her nipples.

“You smell so good,” he purred. “Should be illegal.”

Shepard leaned back and rested the back of her head on his shoulder, gently licking the underside of a mandible and gripping his waist from behind her back.

“Not so bad yourself,” she smiled. “I’ve waited for this since this morning.”

“I’ve waited for this for a week, Jane, so I win.”

He gently pinched a nipple with one set of talons and tried to unlace her undersuit with the other.

“Trouble claiming your prize, Decian?” she teased.

“Argh!”

He let go of her breast and used both hands to tug down her suit and every other piece of clothing she had on, then turned the same eager attention to his own pants, almost hopping to get out of them. When he was stark naked, Shepard saw that his corkscrew cock was already out of its plates and dripping with natural lubricant. He swooped her up in her arms, carried her to the largest window in the room and pushed her against it.

“If you don’t do what I say, I’ll open the blinders,” he said with an expression of supreme smugness.

“Again with the public sex. All right, have your way with me,” she sighed dramatically.

“Mine,” he purred and hoisted her up, hitching her legs behind his spurs.

Shepard wormed her hand between them and guided him in position, and with one small thrust he was inside of her, panting wildly in her ear while his cock expanded to fit her. He rocked his hips gently to create enough friction, and Shepard leaned her head on his shoulder and moaned.

“Gods, I’ve missed this. No more worrying about being interrupted.”

“No more hiding in small storage rooms,” he panted.

“Decian, did you forget the condom?”

“Fuck.. I won’t come inside, promise.”

“Promises, promises,” she smiled.

Luckily she’d made some of Publius’ scent remover, just in case, but it wasn’t a substitute for the condom.

“Better not overexcite me, then,” Chellick purred and started thrusting her against the window more aggressively. The position was simply delicious, and his slit rhythmically rubbed against her clit, making her whine with pleasure. Chellick loved that, she knew. Giving pleasure to one’s partner was a source of immense pride for a committed turian. The window, however, was a little worrying.

“Decian, can the window take all this abuse?” she asked between whines.

“All the windows in this apartment is bullet and blast resistant, even this guest room,” he panted back. “I think they can take a little human being pushed against them.”

“Don’t start a war with me, Decian, I know your weakness.”

He pinned her arms to the side and held her entire weight on his massive frame, fucking her with unrestrained abandon, making them slide towards the edge.

“You’re my captive now, Jane. Can’t win this one,” he purred.

Shepard felt her orgasm swell, teetering on a knife’s edge by being held up and claimed by the turian she loved, who also had the audacity to tease her for it. Chellick saw it, felt it and enjoyed it way too much for a decent guy, and his deep flanged chuckle in her ear brought on an intense climax that lasted for almost twenty seconds while he slowed down his pace, allowing her to ride it out on his cock. The look of smug pride on his face was almost forgivable, Shepard thought in her dazed state. Almost.

“I know that felt good,” he crooned. “I could feel you shake through my plates.”

“Did you now,” Shepard breathed heavily, slowly regaining some feeling in her limbs.

“Yep.”

He still held her up against the wall, thrusting slowly and deeply, making a point of him having the upper hand.

Shepard leaned forward to kiss him, and he met her mouth eagerly, flitting his tongue out to meet hers in another battle for superiority.

With her left hand, Shepard activated a miniature pull, and the small remote that hung on a line swung into her grasp. She pushed the button that deactivated the blinders, and the grand view of the Citadel opened behind her. Chellick gasped.

“Jane, what are you _doing_?”

“Oh, I just remembered Vyrnnus’ gun storage. You like the idea of getting caught, don’t you, my turian lover?”

“Jaaane,” he moaned and dropped her left hand, grabbing for the remote. She sent it flying upwards to the ceiling where it caught on the immovable ceiling fan.

“Nooo..”

“Look at aaaall those skycars passing by,” Shepard whispered in his ear. “They can see my ass, and that’s fine, plenty of human asses on the Citadel,” she continued, smiling widely and giving him an occasional lick on the side of his neck, “but they can see your face.”

“Take it down, please,” he whined, but there was a resonance to his voice Shepard recognized. Chellick was trying to hide his arousal. He’d started thrusting again whilst trying to bury his face in the crook of her neck.

“Imagine the scandal,” she said. “Nephew of a prominent turian Citadel official, caught fucking a human in view of half the city.”

Several headlights of passing skycars flashed over his face and her back.

“Jaaane...” he keened.

Chellick had released both her arms, holding her in a tight embrace and slamming deep inside her with every stroke, but his struggle to control himself was like an aphrodisiac to Shepard.

“The headlines would read.. deviant.”

“Spirits, nooo..”

“Depraved.”

“Please, stop..”

“Humanfucker..”

“Aaahh!”

Chellick pulled out with the last willpower in his possession, and Shepard quickly seized his throbbing cock between her fingers and continued his furious pace, and Chellick stood looming over her with both hands placed on the window, fucking himself furiously into her hand.

“Jane, can I.. on you?”

Praise be to Publius.

“Yes you can come on me, Decian.”

A delighted chirp escaped him and he pressed against her, his cock slid halfway between her thighs and his entire body started to vibrate, At the same time he grabbed onto her and held her so tight she felt the vibrations emanating from his chest resonate in her entire body.

Another loud trill, and she felt something wet stream down her legs. She chuckled and massaged his waist, earning her more trills and more wetness. When Chellick had emptied himself on her, he sagged to is knees, dragging her with him and keeled over with Shepard in his arms.

“Spirits, you’re so _mean_!”

“I know. Sorry.”

“Can we close those blinders now? I have my hind plates on display for the Citadel now.”

She laughed.

“Sure.”

With a small biotic maneuver, the remote fell down and Chellick managed to grab its string and shut the blinders.

“Finally.. Humans,” he muttered in against her breast. “Displaying me like some sort of...”

“Sex god?”

“Pff.. Come off it,” he said, but the satisfaction of his voice shone through the gruff reply. “Spirits, you smell even better now.”

“Now that I smell like you, you mean?” she said and stroked his fringe.

“Mmmmhh, yes.. mine..” he said and gave her nipple a gentle nip.

“Should we move over to the bed?”

“We should, but a mean human robbed me of all my energy.”

“Dreadful. She ought to be punished.”

“She will be.” He pressed his crest to her forehead. “Every chance I get.”

“Decian..”

“Jane..”

He pressed against her and sighed.

“Spirits, we can be so irresponsible. The ass display was one thing, but you cannot walk around smelling like this. You will get into trouble.”

“Doctor Publius gave me something that might help. Never tried it, so it will be trial by fire.”

“Might help? Jane, you’re absolutely nuts. I’d never take a chance like that.”

“Nah, but you don’t walk around smelling like human, do you?”

“No, I don’t.”

He sounded downcast, and Shepard rolled toward him and flitted her fingers in his fringe, stroking the spikes gently. Chellick started purring again and bent his head forward, offering her more access.

“We’ll make do with what we have.”

“It’s enough, when it’s you.”

 

After fifteen minutes on the floor, Shepard’s omni-tool bracelet gave an angry buzz.

“I have to get that, might be mom,” she said and untangled herself from him.

The bracelet continued to buzz, and she plucked it out of her shirt pocket up and stared at the notification. It was a repeat reminder from her uncle David, and read _‘N7- tryout starting 01_ _st_ _July._ _You need to sign up before 20_ _th_ _of June. Don’t forget, Jane!’_

“Yess!” she grinned. She spun around, and a small spray bottle fell out of her shirt and rolled under the bed.

“Damn. That was the odor-repellent.”

Shepard knelt by the bed and snatched out the bottle.

“Crisis averted.”

A heavy breathing shifted hairs on her neck, and she felt the heat emanating from Chellick’s plates.

“Seriously, Jane, do you know what you do to me?” he panted. “Getting on all fours, showing me your.. your.. unplated.. Spirits!”

He sat crouched behind her and pulled her backwards slowly. Shepard moaned as he impaled her from behind, all the while licking and nipping at her neck. When he was hilted inside, he pushed her upper body onto the bed while the both of them were kneeling in front of it.

“I’ve got a condom on this time,” he whispered in her ear. “Don’t worry.”

“I never worry with you,” she smiled with her face in the sheets and lifted both hands slightly off the bed.He got the message and entwined his talons with her fingers while starting to move inside her again. This time there was no rush, and no playful fight. She willingly surrendered to him, and he gracefully accepted by being tender and caring. Every time he pressed inside her he caressed her back, either with a small nip or letting his tongue trail along a new scar, and when she whined, he rewarded her with a small snap of the hips, filling her to the brim. The fucking was exchanged by lovemaking, a slow steady march to the peak for both of them, and he made sure she got there first. This time, however, Shepard’s orgasm didn’t make her cry out in pleasure, she felt like her soul was dragged out of her body, hovering above her for a minute before it was drawn inside Chellick. He followed her shortly after, his vibrating torso the only clue to his climax. Chellick’s forehead rested between her shoulder blades, and his heavy breath made the sweat on her back cool. Something had changed. She felt his presence more, like a part of herself, and not just the fact that he was laying on her back and coming inside her.

“Did we.. did you feel that?” she asked quietly.

“Yes.” His tone was careful. “Do you know what just happened?”

“The bond. It grew stronger.”

“Yes. Are you.. are you angry with me?”

The anxiety was palpable.

“No. Had to happen eventually, right? When we kept this up?”

He chuffed and embraced her.

“Yeah. I was just worried you’d run away from me, since it’s a turian thing.”

“There are so many turian things, but I’m in this for the long haul.”

Chellick laughed and slipped out of her, tied the condom and dropped in the waste basked beside the bed.

“Can we move onto the bed? My knees can’t take much more floor.”

“Now that you’re off my back, sure.”

Shepard hopped on the bed and patted the spot beside her. He landed beside her a second later, and the spray bottle bounced from the mattress.

“This is the magic?” he said. “Too bad. I quite like you like this.”

“I’m sure we can wait a while. How long do we have this place to ourselves?”

“My uncle is out on a mission until tomorrow, so I thought we could get something to eat and watch a-..”

There was a sound from the front door, and a voice called out.

“Decian? Are you here?”

Shepard almost jumped from the bed.

“Tomorrow!? He’s here now!”

“Oh no. He’s early!”

“Decian?” The voice belonged to a turian male.

“Uh, I’m not decent, uncle. Buffing my plates. Be right out!” he called back

“I thought we could go out and get dinner. We caught the culprit sooner than I thought. Tell you all about it when I’ve changed.”

“Sure! Just a minute.”

“Just a minute?” Shepard hissed. “I won’t get out that way.”

“I’ll think of something. Here.”

Chellick started to spray her with Publius’ concoction, and sniffed the air around her.

“I think it’s working, but not how well. Did he say how efficient it would be?”

The rest of the bottle was sprayed on every part of Shepard.

“He wrote the chemical agents would enter the scent molecules and burst them from within, but it was slow-moving to counteract any burning and stop development of a rash,” Shepard said and gathered up her clothes and dressing without looking at him. She was furious.

“I didn’t know, Jane. I swear.”

“I can leave after you’ve gone, right? No alarms or anything?”

“Jane, I.. you can’t. He’ll smell the sex on me and wonder who I’ve taken back with me as soon as I open the door. You need to be gone from here before then.”

Shepard rubbed her face in her hands.

“And how am I supposed to leave this place?”

“The fire escape.”

She glared at him.

“You mean to say, that I have to climb down a hundred meters in a long rickety ladder while my legs are like jelly?”

“Unless you want to get us both in trouble. Again, I’m so sorry.”

“Fine! Open the damn window,” she snapped.

There was a metal ladder outside like he said, and she swung her leg out and hopped down, ignoring his outstretched hand. She was too angry to care about his hurt expression.

“I better get moving. You uncle will probably try looking for whomever seduced his nephew and escaped out the damn window.”

After a final angry glare at him, she ran.

 

* * *

 

“There you are, Decian, are you read-.. Palaven’s moons! What have you done?”

Venari Pallin stared at his nephew, standing in front of him with a guilty look on his face and smelling like a sex shop.

“Nothing, uncle.”

“Who is she? Don’t bother denying it, I can smell it on you. And it’s not even a turian.”

“It’s no one.”

Venari glared at his impulsive sister-son.

“You’ve been on the Citadel for.. less than two hours and already you’ve dragged home some loose female to copulate with? Have you no shame? Some asari stripper, no doubt. And you took her into MY home!”

Chellick twitched his mandibles and wanted to rub in his uncles’ face who and what he’d really been doing, but stopped himself at the last minute. He was already in enough trouble. His bonded girlfriend was upset with him, he was busted for dragging females into his uncle’s apartment, and revealing her identity would probably land him in exile on Palaven for the next ten years.

“Sorry, uncle. I couldn’t help myself. She was just so.. blue.”

Venari sighed.

“We’ll discuss this at dinner. As a future C-sec officer, you can’t have a reputation for dating the very people you’re going to police. It causes rumors of corruption.”

“I.. I understand.”

“That being said, I understand the urges of a young turian. I will introduce you to some suitable females among the daughters of my colleagues and acquaintances later. Can’t have you dying of stress, now can we?”

“No, uncle.”

Chellick shuddered. That would be a hard sell to Jane. He would _not_ be fine with her going on multiple dates with any human males, but his uncle was a hard man to deny. If he could just get through this dinner, then he could call Jane and calm her down. Only the spirits knew how a human would react when they were unceremoniously thrown out of the house by her newly bonded boyfriend. A turian female would react.. badly. He had to talk to her as soon as possible.

 

**2175 CE – June 13 th – Behind Venari Pallin’s apartment complex – 14:08 PM**

The fire ladder stopped 5 meters from the ground, but Shepard did one of her biotic drops and landed safely in an alleyway behind the building. She was filled with a rage she knew to be irrational, but it seemed like something precious had been snatched from her and she had no idea on how to deal with it besides anger.

The urge to vent in some way was overshadowing, and Shepard looked at the timer on the omni-tool. It was still early, but the bars on the lower wards were always open. She was eighteen now and could at least buy beer and a few weak drinks. The last time she’d been drunk was with Dmitri back on earth, but it was never too late to start again. And her boyfriend had just tossed her out of his apartment. Smell be damned. If someone gave her lip, she’d blast them off the Citadel. She pulled up her hood and headed for the nearest elevator.

* * *

Chora’s Den was as rowdy and busy as the rumors made it out to be. A turian bouncer pushed out an overly inebriated batarian, and cast a leering eye on her.

“Looking for a good time, softstuff?”

“Looking for a drink.”

“Same thing. Head on inside.”

When she brushed past him, he sniffed the air and looked confused. He looked at her again, and she gave him an annoyed glare. After another sniff, he shook his head and turned his attention to the row of angry customers who wanted to get in.

“Females first,” he growled and the crowd settled down somewhat.

It was no concern of hers once she was inside, and she turned her sights straight on the bar. Shepard pulled out the nearest bar stool and climbed up.

“Beer, please.”

The bartender sidled up and put a bottle on the counter, popped the cork and slid it over.

“18 credits.”

Shepard transferred the money and sat back with a resigned sigh. Despite the noise she felt relaxed and calm. A few sips in and she was almost in a good mood again, and she took the opportunity to check out the bar scene. The music was thundering and the lights kept flashing and blinking, but it had an odd sort of charm. Several drunk turians were stumbling around the dance floor in a sort of chicken dance, some batarians were singing lewd songs in a corner, the asari dancers were very.. nimble, she had to admit, and a few krogan with green humps were sitting in a booth and scowling at everyone, clutching their drinks as treasure. The one that stood out from the rest was a lone turian with dark plates, sitting alone and drinking like there was no tomorrow. She recognized him as the general from Sha’ira’s. Apparently he had problems not even the consort could fix.

“This one would like to buy you a drink.”

Shepard turned slowly to meet the luminescent glow of a hovering hanar.

“This one thinks not many females could look so nice with such ugly clothes.”

“Excuse me?”

“It will not hold it against the other. It likes it rough and unkempt.”

“Listen, mister, there will be no roughhousing or undressing under the light of a gleaming hanar tonight, so glide along, will you?”

“This one likes a challenge. It’s name is Otsalb. We will be glad to instruct the human in the arts of sexual titillation and gratification.”

Shepard narrowed her eyes.

“Otsalb? That’s Blasto spelled backward, you sneaky little glowstick. Move along, before I get really annoyed.”

She had no inkling on how to read a hanar’s face, or if indeed it was a face somewhere on there, but the increase in pulsating contractions on the hanar’s body was very disturbing.

“We are not discouraged,” the hanar blinked and slid a slimy tentacle up Shepard’s sleeve. “The human likes to play hard-to-get.”

“Hey!” Shepard protested, but was cut off by a loud growl from her right.

“Get that feeler off her before I rip it clean off, creeper!” A large red-humped krogan advanced through the crowd like they were toy soldiers.

“Are you engaging in reproductive behavior with this one?” the hanar said haughtily.

It took Shepard’s brain a few seconds to filter in what the hanar meant. The old battlemaster was more literal.

“If a krogan ever attempted to mate with your kind, there’d be small glowing bits of hanar sticking to every piece of furniture in the room. Do you catch my drift, creeper?”

“This one.. this one has more females than it can count,” the hanar tried meekly.

“Good. Go count them elsewhere!” the krogan snarled.

Shepard was grinning from ear to ear as the hanar made its escape,

“Wrex!”

“Shep! You’ve gotten bi-.. Hey!”

“It’s great to see you,” Shepard said, hugging the old scarred krogan.

“Yeah, well.. Been a long time. How’s it going?”

He looked a little embarrassed, but oddly pleased as well.

“Just got out of that special program for biotics. It got canned.”

“Heard about some trouble with the Suns,” Wrex said and held up two fingers for the bartender. “Ryncol.”

“Yeah, we were attacked. Several students were killed.”

“Bad security,” Wrex shrugged. “Wouldn’t have happened on my watch.”

“Probably not,” Shepard admitted and stared curiously at the two small glasses.

“What, done a couple years of training, and now you think you can handle ryncol?” Wrex grinned. “By the way, now that I’m next to you, I get why that hanar was getting handsy. Or tentacly. You smell like you’ve been rolling in pheromones.”

“Oh.. Any other.. smells?”

“Nope, but that’s bad enough. Didn’t know humans could produce this much of the stuff.”

“Uh, right. Not normally, no, but-..”

“Heeeyy, it’s the little runt!”

Shepard started to grin again and turned around to face another large krogan.

“Wreav, sweetie, how are you?” she said and kissed him on the snout.

“Eugh! Brother, she licked me! The human licked me!”

Wrex sighed and poured down the last ryncol before holding up three new fingers. This was all too familiar for him.

“How are you Wreav, cutest of the krogan?”

“I’m not cute,” Wreav growled and scowled at her.

Shepard laughed and ordered another beer. “Not to my eyes.”

“By Tuchanka’s dust, will you two stop it? It’s like going ten years back in time,” Wrex complained.

“She started it,” Wreav muttered.

“Did not.”

“Cut. It. Out!” Wrex barked.

“Will for a drink,” Shepard wheedled.

“Not a chance, Shep.”

“I say why not, brother.” Wreav chortled and held up two fingers. “One for me, and one for you, eh?”

“Wreav...” Wrex warned.

“Is the young lady old enough?” the turian bartender asked carefully.

“’Course she is,” Wreav snarled. “Are you calling me a liar?!”

“No! No, of course not. Here’s your drinks, sir.” the bartender said and hurried away.

“Hah. Here you go, Shep. Make us proud.”

Wreav pushed one of the glasses to Shepard.

She assessed the content of the glass with a skeptical eye, then picked it up and knocked it back in one move. The brothers observed her closely. The first sign of the ryncol was a slight tingle, then a slight burn, then a sensation like a burning lava pit spread down her throat. Her four extremities gave a small stir, and then her body felt like it was straining to keep her on the chair. Shepard exhaled deeply and grabbed the counter for support. Wrex and Wreav guffawed.

“Not bad for the first try, but I bet you’ll fall on your ass if you attempt to get up, shrimp,” Wreav snorted.

“No more,” Wrex warned his brother. “I’m going to ask about Tonn.”

“Sure,” Wreav waved noncommittally.

“Be right back,” Wrex said and lumbered to the back of the bar.

“He’s going to have a word with that idiot Fist. Doesn’t mean we can’t have a good time.”

“Shure,” Shepard slurred.

“Another ryncol?”

“Shure.”

“Just like old times, eh, Shep?”

 

* * *

 

When Wrex returned from another fruitless meeting with Fist, he couldn’t spot Shepard and his fool brother anywhere. That was a large concern for him. Where his brother was concerned, Shepard was unbelievably gullible and would follow his most idiotic ideas, usually breaking something expensive and/or insulting someone important in the process. Even after all these years, she still held both of them in high regard. Wrex was flattered against his will by this hero worship. Wreav thought it was funny as hell and always looked to cause trouble. Where could they be? He scanned the room and spotted Shepard outside by the bouncer. She loomed over a crew of batarians shouting and hurling insults, sitting on top of.. of.. his brother?! What were they planning? Wrex began pushing his way to the exit, trying to get to them before they caused a disaster.

“Die, you four-eyed pin maws!” his brother snarled and Shepard followed his exclamation with a barrage of biotic bolts. The batarians screamed and started to pull out their weapons. Shepard flared a gigantic shield while Wreav howled and readied his battle rage. The regulars of Chora’s Den shrieked in terror and stampeded inside to get away from the rampaging krogan.

“Wreav! Brother! Shepard!” Wrex shouted and tried to force his way out, but dozens of hysterical customers blocked his path, and he could not risk getting himself shot in here by getting too aggressive when Fist’s guards were here.

“Raaaarrrgh!”

His brother was now glowing red and chasing after the fleeing batarians with Shepard whooping and throwing biotic attacks from his back. In truth, it was quite the spectacle, but C-sec would be here in minutes and they needed to be gone by then. Wrex tried again to push his way outside, but the crowd pushed back and he was clamped between a group of Fists’ armed guards and crying asari dancers. He cursed loudly. There was nothing to do but wait.

 

* * *

 

27 minutes later Wrex was on the prowl, trailing after the last known sighting of Shepard and his brother. The trail was easy to follow at first, overturned boxes and biotic scorch marks, but as he approached the upper wards, he became more wary. How had they managed to get all the way up here? And where were they? He stopped in front of a news station and listened for clues to their whereabouts.

“Excuse me.”

A human male with dark hair appeared beside him. “Are you Wrex? Wrex Urdnot?”

“Urdnot Wrex, and yes. What do you want?”

“I want my friend out of C-sec lockup, but don’t know who to bribe. I suspect you want brother out too, yes?”

Wrex glared at the human. He was broad shouldered, with a wide face and dark eyes. A bulky shirt told of hidden strength, but the friendly smile disarmed the threatening frame. Wrex had never seen the man before in his life, and didn’t trust him one bit.

“Who’re you? Looking for drunk females to exploit?”

“Jane told me you’re a little paranoid. No, I do not exploit females, drunk or otherwise, and I only want to help my friend. She was indeed very intoxicated.”

“Who-are-you?” Wrex repeated slowly.

“Oh. Pardon. I am Dmitri Basanov, Jane’s friend from school. I think you are krogan who knows who to bribe, yes? I have credits.”

Wrex stared at him, but the guy didn’t even flinch under the reptilian gaze. Impressive.

“Shep told you I’m paranoid?”

“Oh yes. She said old battlemasters doesn’t become old battlemasters without healthy dose of paranoia. And she said you had cool scar. So, I look for red krogan with cool scar. They took your brother away with Jane. I can pay for him too.”

“Where are they?” Wrex asked.

“After they end up in Presidium Lake, C-sec came and took them away. I want to get Jane out before they write her name in police ledger. It will be bad for her future.”

Wrex had to agree with him there. It would not be good if he and his brother had been a part of ruining her career prospects. But most of the personnel in C-sec were straight and incorruptible. Unless..

“We have to get to C-sec,” he growled. “If Harkin is on duty, we’re in luck. If not, well..”

“Credits opens many doors,” Dmitri smiled. “And if not, explosives can open walls.”

“Now I can believe you know Shep,” Wrex laughed and slapped him on the back. “Come with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another very early chapter, but I fear it will not be this early next week. I'm going back to work full time, and as you all know, that steals valuable time from writing fanfiction. For shame.  
> Some smut, some new and old characters. We will be seeing more of them throughout the story, and next time (I hope), we will see Garrus and Shepard in a big family reunion. XD


	45. Bribes, nudity and surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrex warns Dmitri, Dmitri reacquaints himself with Chellick and Shepard goes out to meet a friend.

**2175 CE – June 13 th –Citadel Security Reception– 16:16 PM**

This wasn’t the first time Wrex had stood in front of this counter, waiting to bail his brother out for some misdemeanor or other, and he disliked it more intensely each and every time. The snooty turians behind their desks thought they were hiding their contempt from him, but he’d worked with and killed enough of their kind to understand what they thought of him. The presence of the kid actually helped, and Wrex suspected it was because the officers thought he was employed by the human as a bodyguard. Whatever helped speed things up was most welcome. He checked around the vestibule for the only human in a C-sec uniform, the loathsome corrupt bastard with a fondness for using the baton on any and all suspects, and found him standing with his back to them, talking to a civilian. Wrex needed to garner his attention. He slammed his massive hand on the counter, making even experienced officers jump in their chairs.

“Is there no service in this damn joint? Anyone with half a brain would do!”

Across the room Harkin turned around, smirked, and made his way over to them. When he arrived at the reception, he leaned down to the attending officer and said something in his ear, then took the turian’s place.

“Urdnot Wrex,” he said with an unctuous smile. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“You know damn well,” Wrex growled. “My idiot sibling has landed himself in the nick. I want him out.”

“But-..” Dmitri began beside him, and Wrex gave him a warning glare. He closed his mouth and took a step back.

“That was quite a show, Wrex. Never thought your brother would be the kind to give piggyback rides to humans. Mercenary work not paying well, so you’re branching out?”

“Harkin…” Wrex warned.

“No, no, no, I understand. Life is hard. A man, or krogan, must do what he needs to survive, no matter what.”

That was the cue Wrex had been waiting for.

“I agree. No matter what the cost.”

Harkin smirked again.

“I think we can let you visit your brother. After all, we’re not heartless here, are we?”

“’Course you’re not. Come on, Basanif.” Wrex motioned him to follow.

“Basanov.”

“Whatever.”

They trailed after Harkin through C-sec’s main office down to the holding cells. They were unattended, as the every cell pen was automated and controlled from the central control.

“They are processing the batarians first,” Harkin said. “They had several injuries and were making loud threats.”

“They always do,” Wrex said dryly. “Gotta shoot’em in the head to make the noise stop.”

“You should be glad they’re not dead. Couldn’t make this happen with dead bodies in the streets. The Executor is very adamant about that.”

“Whatever,” Wrex sneered. “How much?”

“For your brother? 10 000 credits.”

“Ten thousand? For making a little ruckus?”

“For causing grave bodily harm, disturbing the peace and littering in the lake.”

“What litter?”

“Himself. And that human.”

They stopped in front of a cell clearly not designed for a krogan. Inside, Wreav was bolted to the walls with ship chains. The captured krogan squinted one eye open and grinned at Wrex.

“Brother.”

“Halfwit.”

“Heh heh heh..”

“What about the human?” Wrex said and turned to Harkin. “Don’t want it getting out what Wreav does in his spare time.”

“Her? She’s over here,” Harkin said and pointed. “She was unduly drunk when she arrived and passed out after 10 minutes. Still managed to kick several officers straight in the groin plates before we slapped on those suppressor bracelets.”

“Oooh,” Dmitri winced.

“That’s what they said. Split plates can only protect so much,” Harkin laughed. “If you’re that concerned, I’ll let you spring her for 1500 credits. First timers aren’t worth much.”

“Fine,” Wrex sighed, feigning defeat. “Guess I don’t have much choice.” He smashed his fist on Wreav’s cell bars. “That comes out of your share of the next mission, every credit. Dunce!”

“Hey, I had fun,” Wreav shrugged, making the chains jangle.

“How shall we pay,” Dmitri said. “At the counter above?”

Harkin and Wrex stared at him.

“Not the brightest bulb, is he?” Harkin said.

“Credits don’t need brains,” Wrex said dismissively. “Give him your account number.”

“Transfer the money to this account.” Harkin pinged Dmitri’s omni-tool.

“11 500, right?” Dmitri asked and keyed in the right amount.

“Right. And I suppose you want to leave without making a fuss? That’s another 1000.”

Dmitri glanced at Wrex, who nodded indifferently. This was typical Harkin. Another 1000 was transferred, and Harkin pulled out a miniature remote, overriding the locks to the two cells.

Wrex started unhooking the chains on his brother, while Dmitri quickly walked to Shepard’s cell and scooped her up in his arms. The movement made her blink awake.

“Dmitri? Wha’r yu doin’ ere?”

“Picking up favorite girl, what else?”

“M’ place?”

“If you insist,” he smiled.

“Would you kindly get out, that way?” Harkin pointed. “I’m not a magician, you know.”

The brothers lumbered out of the cell and peered down at Harkin.

“This doesn’t make it into the station records, human!” Wreav snarled. “Not me, and not that.” He pointed at the semi-conscious Shepard.

“My services are renowned,” Harkin simpered. “Leave, before I call the boss himself down here.”

“One day, Harkin,” Wrex spat.

“You’ll be down here again to give me more credits. Piss off.”

 

Outside, Wrex put a large hand on Dmitri’s shoulder.

“Where do you think you’re going? I don’t know you. Give her to me.”

“No. She’s going with me, to her uncle’s apartment to sleep the alcohol out of her system.”

“Didn’t you hear me? Hand her over.”

“No! Jane? Jane, wake up.”

Dmitri shook her gently, and Shepard woke again.

“Whazzhapp?”

“Shep, do you know this guy?” Wrex growled.

“Shuuure. Is Dmmtri from me class. Trd callin’ hm all week.”

“See? I will take her home.”

“Don’t make me regret this.” Wrex gave him a stare that could wither paint.

“Don’t make me demand refund and interest,” Dmitri replied with a big smile.

“Hmm.. I will send Shep a message later, to make sure.”

“I would expect no less,” Dmitri said. “Good day, gentlemen.”

The brothers watched him stride away towards the sky cars with Shepard in his arms.

“You think he might kidnap her?” Wreav rubbed his neck.

“Don’t think so,” Wrex said. “And if he did, the tracker I placed on his shoulder will make him easy to find and kill.

“You’re paranoid, brother. She knew him.”

“So? Don’t know him, don’t trust him. In fact, I barely trust you, and I’ve known you for centuries.”

“What? It was a couple of ryncol shots, hardly a night out for a krogan.”

“Don’t talk back to me!” Wrex glared at his brother. “Thanks to you, I’m indebted to a human.”

 

**2175 CE – June 13 th –David Anderson’s apartment– 22:48 PM**

After maneuvering Jane to bed, Dmitri floundered between going back to his hotel, or staying to keep an eye on his drunk friend. Going to sleep when one’s alcohol high was still rising was always exciting, and he decided to stay. He felt no compunction for heading into the master bedroom and robbing the bed of clean sheets and pillows, before going back to the living room and making himself comfortable on the couch. If something happened to Jane during the night, he’d hear it. He’d dropped her omni-tool bracelet a small table next to where he was sleeping, in case Hannah Shepard called. There was a tacit understanding between himself and Jane that he was her official boyfriend, to avoid suspicion of.. whatever she was doing with that turian.

The omni-tool buzzed seconds later, and speak of the devil, it was said turian. Vid-call. Dmitri glanced over to Jane’s room, but she was sound asleep. The omni-tool kept buzzing. He grinned. It would be cruel not to answer, right? The poor turian would wonder all night why she didn’t reply. He pressed receive.

“Thank the spirits Jane, you finally-.. _You!_ ” the beige turian gasped. “I remember you!”

“Yes, me. Jane is asleep in next bed. What do you want?” Dmitri said with a voice flush with helpfulness.

“In the next bed?! You..! Are you aware she’s my bonded girlfriend?!”

“More creepy turian stuff? She did not mention this,” Dmitri replied lightly. “Perhaps it slipped her mind.”

“It happened today!” Chellick shouted. “We are a serious couple now!”

The smile on Dmitri’s face disappeared like it was wiped from his face.

“If you and Jane pledged yourselves today, why was she not with you?”

“I, uh.. That’s none of your business. Let me speak to her.”

“Did you hurt her?” Dmitri’s voice was low and threatening.

“No. It wasn’t my fault,” Chellick hissed.

“That is wrong answer. Did you hurt her?” Dmitri repeated.

“No! Just let me talk to her, Basanov.”

“I think not,” Dmitri said coldly. “Jane’s sleeping safely with me. And if I find tomorrow that you have hurt her, I would remind you of last conversation on this topic. Good night.”

Dmitri discontinued the call and slung the bracelet on the table. If that.. bird, had done something that caused Jane to land herself in jail, he’d pluck his plates off one by one, no matter how much he claimed to be the boyfriend.

 

**2175 CE – June 14 th –David Anderson’s apartment– 07:55 AM**

The bracelet buzzed on the table, and Dmitri rolled around to grab it. It was another vid-call, and this time it was Hannah Shepard. Jane had been sick many times during the night, and Dmitri was fairly sure she wasn’t up to talking to her mother, but given that the admiral could send half of C-sec over here if her daughter was unavailable, it might be prudent to answer. He pulled on a shirt and pressed receive.

“Hello, Jane’s mother.” He smiled his most charming smile.

When she saw him, Hannah looked surprised, but pleased.

“Dmitri! Hi! Where’s Jane?”

“Well, it was late night last night, and Jane is.. sleeping.”

Hannah chuckled.

“You mean, you had a party, and my daughter is hung over.”

“I have no comment,” Dmitri said, playing coy.

“I was young once too. How are you? How’s your father?”

“I’m good. I work with father, and he is good too. We are here to talk with Alliance of future projects. I had.. other plans too.”

“So I can see,” Hannah smiled. “Well, you can tell my daughter when she wakes up that I’ve been delayed again. I’ll be arriving on the 25th or the 26th. We’ll stay in port for a day or two, change of crew and shore leave, so you kids have until then.”

“I will tell her.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you then.”

“до свида́ния, Hannah.”

“до свида́ния, Dmitri.”

 

**2175 CE – June 21 st –Nanus 2, Passenger Line – 04:36 AM**

Garrus laid awake in his cabin and stared at his omni-tool. It was the middle of the night on the Citadel, but he was anxiously awaiting the reply for the message he sent 20 minutes earlier. He knew it was stupid. She was probably sleeping, or out with some friends, or worse, rolled up in Chellick’s arms. He’d almost resolved to put the omni-tool away when a message pinged in.

_< J.Shepard – Jane>:_ Still at the Citadel. Poker night with some friends. I’m kicking their asses. Will still be here when you arrive.

_< G.Vakarian – Me>:_ Great! Bet you’re cheating, though..

_< Jane>:_ Who, me? Never. Who told you I cheat?

_< Me >:_ You did, back on Gagarin. And you did it to me, on our poker night, remember?

_< Jane>:_ False memories. I’m much too decent to do something like that.

_< Me >:_ Mhm..

_< Jane>:_ Anyway.. Anything you want to do when you get here? Get something to eat? See a vid? Go to the shooting range, so I can show you what true marksmanship looks like?

_< Me >:_ Shooting range. Loser buys dinner.

Garrus stared at the screen. Had he been too forward? He knew he’d been pushing it with Shepard, the kiss and the hints about a future romance, but after Eden Prime, he was.. he felt they had a connection. Something other than love, or even lust. What was it Saren had said, battle bond? All he knew about that was that he missed fighting and training alongside her. It was like an occasional ache in his side, like being lost, and he wondered if she’d experienced the same. Perhaps he could ask at dinner. If she agreed.

_< Jane>: _Hah! Hope you have the credits Garrus. Woe to the defeated.

_< Me >: _It’s a date.

_< Me >:_Deal! It’s a deal.

_< Jane>_: Relax, I know what you meant. Gotta go, Dmitri is back with drinks. Message me when you arrive.

_< Me >:_Will do.

Garrus smiled and put the omni-tool away. Shepard was many things, but a sniper she was not. That was one dinner he would not have to pay for.

 

**2175 CE – June 23 rd – Outside C-sec Elevator – 08:03 AM**

The four of them was supposed to have breakfast together, but Galenus Vakarian’s duties as the Executor of the Citadel was endless, and he’d been delayed again. Garrus glanced at the wall timer again, and his mother sent him a curios look. Solana was too busy staring at the C-sec officers to notice, having turned 14 and suddenly gained awareness of that some male turians in uniform and armor were very interesting. Thankfully, these turians were all under the employ of his father, and would not even think about looking at the young female.

“Stop ogling that turian’s pubic plates,” he hissed as his sister stared at a young officer’s workout.

Solana’s neck blued.

“I wasn’t staring!”

“Your eyeballs were practically bouncing along the floor.”

“Were not!”

“Stop it, you two. Garrus, let your sister look at the handsome young turian,” Vistilla chuckled.

“I wasn’t looking,” Solana insisted, thrumming intense embarrassment.

“Sure,” Garrus replied sourly.

He had his own ‘date’ to worry about, and his father’s dawdling could throw a wrench in the entire matter.

“Whats’ your hurry?” His mother was uncannily perceptive.

“I’m going to meet a friend, is all.”

“A female friend?” His mother asked with an innocent smile.

“Does it matter? It’s just a friend.”

“I see.. Shouldn't you introduce her to the family? I’m sure our table can accommodate another one.”

“No! I mean, no, that won’t be necessary. We’ve already agreed to get something to eat later, so I won’t be joining you for dinner at dad’s.”

“You’re being very secretive, Garrus.”

“Yeah, what are you hiding?” Solana piped in. “Who’s this female?”

“None of your business,” Garrus snapped at his sister.

“Garrus has a girlfriend,” Solana said in a singsong voice.

“I don’t. Stop it.”

“Solana, be nice to your brother. Oh, here comes your father,” Vistilla said and hummed at Galenus.

“I’m sorry, my dear. The demands on me are endless. I hope you’re still hungry?”

“We all are,” Vistilla smiled.

“The faster the better,” Garrus murmured.

“Girlfriend,” Solana whispered so only her brother would hear.

“Solana!” he thrummed at her.

“Give it a rest, children,” Galenus said, and was rewarded with glares from both his offspring.

“One more year, and I’m a citizen,” Garrus said. “Solana’s the child.”

“I’m not a child,” Solana shrieked.

“I’m going to have breakfast, and if you three want to stand here arguing, I won’t mind,” Vistilla said calmly.

“Right. Food will make everyone feel better,” Galenus agreed. “Even me.”

 

**2175 CE – June 23 rd – Palaveni Palace Hotel– 08:27 AM**

Everyone had secured a big plate of homeworld treats and were seated around a large family table. Garrus was discreetly wolfing down his food, and his mother pretended not to notice her son’s terrible table manners. Galenus was too occupied with regaling them of the intricacies of office life to care, and Solana was back to ogling a handsome turian waiter whom flitted around the tables offering refills.

“As I was saying, there’s something shady with the official report from Arterius,” Galenus said between mouthfuls. “I mean, the praise heaped on the Shepard girl is excessive, and then the Alliance leases one of the largest hospitals on the Citadel, flying in the finest surgeons from Palaven and Taetrus, for no other reason than being _helpful_? Saren has made some sort of mistake, and this is all part of a large cover-up.”

Garrus stiffened on his chair, and his mother cast him a scrutinizing look.

“I mean, whatever reason does a turian Spectre have to work with the Alliance? This only goes to show that the long arm of the Citadel should not be allowed to work unsupervised.”

“I think the Spectres do important work,” Garrus said quietly. “And Saren is very efficient.”

Galenus stared at his wayward son.

“You have met him?”

“Yes, on.. on Eden Prime.”

“And what did you see on Eden Prime? You never said a word about it before. Did it happen like it says in the reports?”

“Uh.. Mostly, yes. Shepard went on a killing spree, and blew apart a shuttle with a couple of grenades.”

Garrus clamped down his subvocals to hide his emotions. His father was too busy with the story to hear, but his mother gave him that look again. She was too observant for her own good, Garrus thought.

“A killing spree.. Not unlike her mother then,” Galenus muttered. “Too quick to resort to violence.”

“Galenus, the admiral is on active duty,” Vistilla said. “They don’t fight pirates and batarian slavers with lover’s words.”

“There is something about that female,” Galenus insisted. “She and the daughter are attention seeking lunatics.”

Garrus dropped his fork and stared down on his plate. “That’s not what happened at Eden! Shepard destroyed the jammer. Saren’s ship chased off the Suns. My friend lost an arm. People I know got killed! Who cares what the Alliance says? And you obsess about the admiral again? She wasn’t even there!”

Galenus cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“Yes, well.. Where the Shepards are concerned, I worry for your safety. For all of us.”

“I guess this would be a bad time to say I’m thinking of applying for Spectre training after boot?” Garrus added angrily.

“What?!”

“I want to go out there and help people, like Saren does.”

“Garrus! Have I not told you over and over, people who know the law doesn’t apply to them does not abide by the law? The Spectres have no scruples whatsoever. Saren Arterius is hardly better than a murderer, the way he purports to protect the galaxy is barely a step over organized crime.”

“Galenus, please,” Vistilla interjected and put her hand on her mate’s arm. “You’re making a display in here. Let Garrus go meet his friend, we’ll talk about this later.”

“Fine, but we’re not finished with this, young turian.”

“Fine with me,” Garrus murmured and pushed away from the table. “I’ll be having dinner with my friend. Later.”

 

**2175 CE – June 23 rd – Presidium Bridge – 10:08 AM**

Garrus knew he was late, and he jogged the last stretch from the elevator, hoping that Shepard hadn’t grown tired and left. As he approached, he saw her leaning on the rail by the lake, gazing over the water.

“Shepard! Hey! So sorry I’m late, my dad went on a tirade.”

She caught sight of him and smiled broadly, offering him a hug. He seized the chance at once, squeezing her hard.

“Hey Garrus. So great to see you. I know it’s not even been a month, but I’ve missed you.”

“I know,” he said, stepping back from the embrace. “I’ve gotten used to you hanging around.”

“Have you seen anyone else from Four?”

“Only one. Strabo was at a clawball game in Cipritine with a female,” Garrus grinned. “His team lost.”

“Aw, poor guy.”

“Don’t worry, the female looked like the comforting type.”

Shepard laughed. “Well, that’s something. Come on, I’ve leased two firing lanes down on Krutt’s Court of Death, side by side, so I can make sure you don’t cheat.”

They strolled down towards the lower Zakera wards.

“Really?” Garrus raised a brow plate. “Who’s the cheater here?”

“Aren’t you the son of the policeman? Where’s your evidence?”

“The evidence of my own eyes?”

“Hearsay. Besides, turians are notoriously untrustworthy. I’ve heard that from my mom.”

It was Garrus turn to laugh. “You too? My dad went on about your mother at breakfast today.”

“I’m not surprised.”

He remembered something else his father said.

“My dad, he.. he thinks you’re the same as the admiral.”

Shepard shrugged.

“Not really surprising, we are family. Did he say anything about Eden Prime?”

“Yeah, he thinks you’re looking for fame.” Garrus’ voice was guarded. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Never thought you would,” she replied and nudged him with her shoulder. “And as long as you know the truth, your father can believe whatever he wants. I care about your opinion, not his.”

“Thanks,” he beamed.

“Parents. They should be locked in a dark room until they’ve fought it out. Here we are,” she said and pointed.

“The owner is a.. krogan,” Garrus said.

“Yup. Got a tip from a friend. Oh, I have to tell you about the other day, when I was riding a krogan around the Citadel!”

“No way!” Garrus stared wide eyed at her, trying to spot a fib.

“Way. Landed myself in jail too,” Shepard grinned.

“What? And you’re out already?”

“Yup. Now, I know your dad is the Executor, so I want you to promise not to tattle on me.”

“I promise. Tell me.”

“Three sec, hi Krutt. Wrex sends his regards.”

Krutt the krogan showed them to their places and supplied them with rifles and heatsinks. They checked their weapons and adjusted the bullet screen beside the stands.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Both for shooting and story-telling.”

“All right! It began when I went to visit-..”

 

* * *

 

“..and Dmitri told Decian I was sleeping next to him, so he got pretty hysterical and sent like 40 messages before I woke up, and Dmitri answered each and every one, the bastard. Decian was close to a breakdown.”

Shepard pulled the trigger and the bullet screen announced another eight.

“Serves him right,” Garrus muttered. He squeezed the trigger, and the screen announced 9.

He’d been really saddened by her reveal of bonding with Chellick, but not enough to want to leave. Standing here, side by side and shooting with her made him feel.. found. It was a strange sensation.

“That Dmitri-guy sounds like fun.”

“He is.”

Garrus heard the smile in her voice, and felt another pang of irrational jealousy. The human was just a friend, but he was perhaps occupying the next best spot in Shepard's heart.

“We should all go out to dinner one day.”

Garrus’ own heart sunk like a rock.

“But not today. Today is just for the two of us,” Shepard said and fired another round.

“Eight,” said the screen.

“I thought you said you could shoot,” Garrus teased and took aim. He liked her comment about just the two of them. “With this shot I’m going to win by a large margin.”

“Is that so?” Shepard peeked inside his booth and checked his screen. “Looks bad, I must admit.”

“Told you,” Garrus smirked. He aimed very carefully and focused on the target. He was in fact so focused that he didn’t spot the finger sneaking up to the stock, hovering under his arm. When he squeezed, said finger pushed upwards ever so slightly, and the surprise made him pull the trigger. The shot went low.

“Miss,” the screen flashed.

Garrus yanked out the heatsink and turned to point accusingly at Shepard.

“You cheated! Again!”

“Yup.”

The admission caught him off guard.

“You.. why?”

“Because it’s was the only way I could win. I haven’t practiced shooting for weeks, and I don’t have your natural talent for rifles. I prefer shotguns,” Shepard beamed.

“Shepard… You’re hopeless, you know that,” he sighed. Then he cheered up. “So you admit I’m the better shot?”

“For now. One day in the future I’ll beat you fair and square. But since you would have won, if you had a little more foresight, I’ll pay for dinner. No hard feelings?”

Garrus chuckled.

“Not when you offer free food. And I want to hear the end of Dmitri trolling Chellick.”

 

**2175 CE – June 23 rd – Zakera Big Steak House – 17:21 PM**

After the shooting contest, they’d strolled around the Citadel for a few hours, chatting and laughing until Shepard saw a poster for a new Blasto movie. Garrus had rolled his eyes, but Shepard hadn’t been discouraged by the lustful hanar at the bar and was still a big Blasto fan. When he saw her unabashed enthusiasm for the vid, he couldn’t say no, and they spent the next to hours in the dark movie theater, eating snacks and tossing the occasional popcorn at some asari in the front.

10 minutes before the vid finished, they were asked to leave by a very polite, yet annoyed elcor usher, and they did as he requested, snickering all the way out.

“This was your fault,” Shepard said and poked him in the arm. “That last popcorn got caught in her fringe.”

“You told me to throw it,” he protested with a smile.

“Typical turians, just following orders.”

A low rumble made its way from his stomach.

“Oh, right, I promised you food.”

“You did.”

“And what do you feel like? Anything you want.”

“Kheelie steak. My favorite.”

“Then steak it is. Hopefully they serve something levo too.”

 

* * *

And now they were enjoying desert, or rather, Shepard was. Her increased metabolism due to her biotics made her capable of eating half the pantry, but he was an ordinary turian who’d ordered the largest steak on the menu, and he was completely stuffed. Shepard ate her pudding and grinned at him.

“Wow, looks like it’s mainly the plates keeping all that food inside. Can I pat your belly?”

“No,” he said reproachfully. “That’s torture.”

“Nobody _made_ you eat everything on the plate,” she said with a mouth full of pudding.

“You tempted me to do it.”

“Sure, blame the human.”

“Hey, it’s a Vakarian family tradition.”

They laughed at the very personal joke.

“So, uh. Did you get into that program you told me about?” Garrus asked.

Shepard perked up and put down the spoon.

“I met the requirements for applying, and I’ve signed up. They’re starting tryouts back on earth this summer.”

“You think you can make it?”

“The drill program they sent me looks okay. I’ve done worse with Vyrnnus these past months. I think I’ll get in.”

“That’s fantastic.” He hummed at her.

“Yeah, that part is great. Six months of survival training for N1 is not,” she said with a grimace.

“Six months?”

“Two in the desert, two in the arctic and two in the jungle. We’ll be placed on four-men teams to assess cooperation, fighting skills, survival, stealth, you name it. Sounds like a hoot.”

“In the arctic?” he said, looking puzzled.

“Polar region on earth. Snow, blizzards, ice, that sort of thing. Think Noveria.”

“Spirits! I’m so sorry, Shepard.”

“Hey, I’m not gonna die out there. I’ll pass the N1. I hope,” she winked.

“Don’t joke about that. Not ever.”

“All right, all right. So serious,” she said, but desisted on the dying talk.

Garrus could see it in his mind, Shepard's cold body disappearing slowly in a snow drift. He shook his head and forced the image away.

“You _are_ going to message me? When you’re allowed?” he asked, tentatively.

“Whenever I have the chance. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on all those snowscape holos.”

“Ugh. But at least I’ll know you’re alive. I don’t think the boot camps on Palaven is as strict as Gagarin, so we can probably send messages a few times a month.”

“Remind the others, I want to know what they’re up to as well.”

“No problem.”

They’d spent most of the day together, talking and joking, but both of them knew the day was coming to an end. Garrus was melancholy, and Shepard looked somber. He would not have another chance in a while.

“Shepard?”

“Hmm? Yeah?”

“That day, on Eden Prime...”

“Yeah?”

“When you were.. not yourself and I pinned you down.. did you feel any different afterwards? Towards me, I mean.”

She sat up with a sigh. “I thought it was just me, being messed up in the head.”

“Please, tell me!”

Shepard shuffled her hands nervously and looked around to see if anybody was listening in on their conversation, then she leaned forward.

“Sometimes it feels like I have a chink in my armor when you’re not around. I didn’t notice until I was here on the Citadel.”

“Like a gap? Like something’s missing?” he said, leaning towards her as far as his stuffed stomach would allow.

“Yeah, like that. Have you felt that?”

“Yes. You weren’t all there, but back on Eden, Saren called it battle bond. He was upset about it.”

“Hmm.. Might have to research that on the extranet.”

“I already did,” Garrus said with a flushing neck. “You have an expression like that on earth, brothers or comrades in arms.”

“And when you add a little turian bonding..” Shepard said resigned.

“You get this,” Garrus finished.

“So..”

“Well..”

“I guess we’re fucked,” Shepard said with a small smile.

Garrus sighed with relief. She wasn’t angry.

“Guess we are.”

“Too bad I don’t have doctor Publius’ address, just the one from Gagarin. I’d like to discuss this with him.”

“What for?”

“He just might be the foremost expert on human-turian bonding. Don’t know how much more my system can take before my head explodes.”

“No? Really?”

Shepard chuckled.

“Don’t look so worried, I was joking. And still, this isn’t normal for a human.”

“It’s not normal for a turian either, with a human. Perhaps I should get my head checked out.”

“Waste of time. Bonding agents don’t thrive in vacuum.” She winked at him.

“Aww, hahaha, if you hadn’t overfed me I’d get you for that.”

“Sure you would.”

She became serious again. “I’m going to miss this, spending time with you, with everyone from Four. Worst case scenario, we might never see each other again, best case it’s months away.”

“But as long as we know the other is out there, there’s always hope,” he said, offering a hand.

She took it and held it, locking her eyes on his blue ones.

“Since when did you become an optimist?”

“Since I found such friends as I have,” he said gravely.

“The best of friends,” Shepard replied, giving his hand another squeeze. “Anytime you need help, I’ll come running.”

“And I for you. Promise.”

An oath of gray and blue was sealed, unspoken and unyielding.

At this moment, there was nothing more to be said. They rose from their seats, hugged one last time and walked their separate ways from the restaurant, silent, yet content.

 

**2175 CE – June 23 rd – David Anderson’s Apartment – 22:36 PM**

The front door was unlocked when she got back, and that meant that Dmitri hadn’t yet left. Shepard suspected that he stayed just to grill her about her meeting with Garrus, and sure enough, when she walked into the living room, he shut down the holo-vid and removed his feet from the table with an anticipatory grin.

“So, how was date?”

She shook her head and dropped into the couch.

“It wasn’t a date, and you know it.”

“The beige one thinks it was. He called again.”

“Decian? But I had my omni-tool with me all the time.”

“Did I say he called you? Or maybe, I called him. Who knows,” Dmitri said in the voice of someone that knew they’d pulled someone’s leg.

“Gods, don’t say that you actually contacted him? He’s still upset that you bribed my way out of jail. That kind of thing makes him not sleep at night.”

“Then his girlfriend must wear him out. Not my problem,” Dmitri shrugged.

“Don’t tell me you blame him for that,” Shepard laughed.

“No, the jail I on blame Wreav, but you did not help by climbing on his back,” Dmitri said and shook his head. “You must do those things after accepted into military, not before.”

“I hear you. So, how much do I owe you for my escape.”

“All the gossip,” Dmitri grinned. “No credits. I have enough of that.”

“Speaking of which, you never told me of that company merger. Your father made money on the fallen dreadnought, right? Basanov Materials?”

“My job is boring, Jane, that is why I do not talk about it. I never get to ride krogan. But yes, we had raw materials, and then father met weapons designer without materials and credits. He had ideas, father had credits and so they joined. We took his name for company, Igor Rosenkov.”

Shepard sat silent for a second, then her brain spun into gear.

“Rosenkov? As in Rosenkov Materials?”

“Yes. I think you have heard of us, yes?”

A certain sniper rifle flashed before her eyes, and she grinned.

“Yes, I’ve heard of you.”

“Many have. The arm’s industry is profitable, but father wants to expand company further. Sorry, I cannot reveal more.”

“No problem, I won’t pry. Not into that, at least. Now, fess up.. You’re dating a smurf!”

“Jane! She is not _smurf_!”

“I’ve seen the screen saver on your datapads. All the same shade of blue.”

“She is not girlfriend yet,” Dmitri said with a careful expression. “She wants children, and think I do not.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Shepard said gleefully. “An asari who thinks about children? Just how old is this fair maiden?”

“Jane..”

“200?”

“For an asari, that is not-..”

“300?!”

“They do not count time as we do-..”

“Gods, 400?! Dmitri, that’s as good as necrophilia!” Shepard threw her head back and laughed.

A cushion flew through the air and hit her square between the eyes.

“Haha, throw as many cushion as you want, doesn’t alleviate the fact that you’re trying to date the crypt keeper, ahahah, oow!”

The first cushion was followed by a barrage of its fluffy relatives.

“She is 286, if you must know, and-..”

“Ahahahahaha! Not a cradle robber, but a tomb raider, hahahaa!”

“Come her, aviphile,” he growled and caught her, throwing her over his shoulder. Shepard was laughing so hard she hardly put up a fight. Dmitri carried her into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

“Perhaps this will teach manners,” he smiled and tried to shove her inside.

“Not without a friend!”

Quick as a flash, she jerked him in with her.

“хуй,” he barked, and shuddered under the cold water.

“No swearing, I’m very delicate.”

“Cold! So very cold,” he whined.

“Aren’t you from Siberia? Wimp.”

“I don’t live there all year, crazy woman!”

He managed to snatch his arms away from her and escaped out of the water. Shepard followed on his heels, still chuckling. She pulled two large towels from a cupboard and tossed him one.

“Better get dried off. Don’t want you too going blue from the cold.”

“You think you are funny, yes? You wait Jane, I will make more bird jokes when I have feeling in limbs.”

He pulled his shirt and pants off without hesitation, and wrapped himself in the towel.

“Now I wait for call from bird. Almost naked. Explain that to nest-keeper.”

“Oooh, come on, I was just kidding,” Shepard said, quickly grabbing a bathrobe and putting it on.

“No mercy.” Dmitri sat down on the couch, spreading his legs wide.

“Gods, I don’t want to see that. Put it away.” Shepard pretended to cover her eyes.

“Perhaps your boyfriend want to look at competition.”

“You’re not competition, Dmitri, you’re only upset you have blue-balls.” The moment she said it, she saw him trying to stop himself from bursting out laughing. It failed miserably, and they both rolled around on the couch.

“I don’t know why I come here,” he said finally and wiped some tears from his eyes. “I only get insults.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” Shepard smiled. “Can’t believe it’s been so long.”

“Not again,” he said. “No more secret government organizations locking us up on old space station.”

“No longer whole years of silence,” she added.

The omni-tool buzzed, and to neither one’s surprise, it was Chellick.

“Answer, Jane,” Dmitri said and removed his towel.

“Put your clothes on, crazy Ivan.”

“You want him to believe you are still on date with Vakarian? Answer call,” Dmitri teased.

“Damn you,” she chuckled and pressed receive.

“Decian, this is not what it looks like,” she said hurriedly.

Dmitri stood up in the couch and did a split leap behind her.

A pair of wide turian eyes stared at her from the omni-tool.

“What.. was… that…?” Chellick said in a strangled voice.

“That was nothing,” she smiled. “Or something so small it’s beneath your notice.”

“That is rude, Jane!” Dmitri said with mock offense in the background. “It is natural size.”

“Is he.. he is _naked_!? He’s not even plated, Jane, just.. _dangling_ all over the place! Basanov, stop it!” Chellick yelled.

“Jane got so wet, we had to take off clothes,” Dmitri said behind her.

“Decian, he’s just messing with your head, what actually happened was-..”

“I’m coming over,” Chellick hissed. “And that man better be gone when I get there.” He hung up.

“Look what you did,” Shepard said, but couldn’t even manage to sound angry.

“Now boyfriend comes to visit, yes?” Dmitri said with a smug shrug. “You can thank me later.” He started to vigorously dry himself off.

“I’ll put your clothes in the dryer.”

“Good house wife.”

“Shut it.”

By the time Chellick rang the door, Dmitri had already left, and Shepard had an inkling he was going to message the mysterious asari. She didn’t mind, because Chellick had arrived with his mind set on literally charming her pants off, and making her forget the naked human hopping around her flat earlier. He was very tenacious, and it only took him the better part of ten minutes to make her forget the world.

 

**2175 CE – June 24 th – David Anderson’s Apartment – 08:01 AM**

Chellick was still fast asleep, exhausted after the previous night when the omni-tool on the bed stand buzzed. He’d kept going for hours, purring and licking for dear life to remove the memory of Dmitri running around naked in the apartment, and he’d succeeded thoroughly. Shepard was in no mood to leave his side for any reason. Whomever called was in deep shit. She peered at the display. It was Garrus, sending a message with alert. She swiped it open.

_< G.Vakarian – Garrus>:_ Sorry about the early wake-up. My dad just told me your mother’s ship is arriving in two hours. The Orizaba has requested emergency docking, due to a minor hull breach. Dad had to say no, because the PFS Havincaw is already in the only repair dock that’s big enough for the Orizaba, and the Orizaba isn’t in critical condition. According to dad, your mother was ‘not happy,’ to say the least, and has requested a briefing on the matter. She’ll set the Orizaba in orbit and arrive via shuttle craft. You might want to be there.

_< J.Shepard – Me>:_ Fuck! Thanks for the heads up. I do want to be there, maybe I can cool things down. Maybe..

_< Garrus>:_ I hope so. Dad looks furious too. Talk later, he’s here.

He disconnected, and she rolled around to face Chellick. It was now her turn to shoo her boyfriend out of the apartment after sex, and she completely understood the awful position he’d been in the other day.

Hannah’s arrival was still two hours away, and that meant they still had time for breakfast. Shepard reached out her fingers and stroked Chellick’s mandible and fringe to wake him. It was a bit harsh, after all he’d only had a few hours sleep, but a thousand times better than waking to her mother’s shocked face and him attempting to hide under the bed.

“Mmph, hmm?” He opened one eye and yawned.

“Sorry, Decian. The world is intruding. We need to get up.”

“Ummm, nooo..” Chellick stretched his entire body, and she shamelessly admired the muscles rippling under his hide.

“Sorry, yeeeshh,” she mimicked and embraced him before he could stop her.

“Bah.. what cruel trick of fate pulls you from our bed this time?”

“The arrival of my mother.”

Chellick froze, but Shepard stroked his chest plate reassuringly.

“In a few hours. I thought we could make breakfast before I shoved you out the door. The door, not the fire escape,” she said and tapped his keel bone.

“How generous of you.”

“After last night, you deserve it.”

“As you wish, but.. five more minutes?” he begged and sniffed her hair.

“Have ten. Still feeling generous.”

He chuckled and snuggled up to her as much as their diverging anatomies allowed, and Shepard allowed herself to bask in the warmth of his plates a while longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another early (and long) chapter, must be an overactive muse or something. :)  
> Well, tomorrow is first day back at work after a long break, and I'm willing to bet my boss has overtime planned.. Ouch.. 
> 
> But, not to worry, I'm already writing the promised showdown! :D


	46. Close combat choreography

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah Shepard has arrived on the station, and has a hollow bone to pick with Galenus Vakarian. Garrus and Shepard wants to avoid a disaster, and to what they do best, improvise.

**2175 CE – June 24 th – Dock – 10:11 AM**

The magic spray had done its work again, and Shepard could pass all the C-Sec officers without being identified as a perv, just a very horny human. The previous night was worth a few passing glances, and her mother and her crew would not be able to smell anything. Seeing the dark view of the large entry ports down at the landing piers always made Shepard teem with anticipation, and this time was no different. Everything about it felt like home, the metal carrying beams, the large winches, the hustling crew and even the angry customs inspectors. It was familiar to her, she’d lived most of her life  in space, and this was part and parcel of that life. Right now, however, there was a nervous atmosphere among the turian dock workers as her mother’s shuttle approached the hangar. Shepard saw at least one of the ground crew drop the suction crane remote twice, and pick it up with an embarrassed thrum. Almost a year had passed since she’d seen her in the flesh, and she’d forgotten how much of an impact Hannah Shepard the admiral could have on others. The turian crew leader announced the shuttle’s imminent arrival, and there was a faint scraping of metal and a dull echo of grinding gears as the hangar doors pulled to the sides. A Kodiak shuttle drifted slowly through the opening and came to a stop in the middle of the hall. Shepard had always liked them, but arriving in a combat cockroach was a far cry from arriving in a dreadnought, and Shepard dreaded her mother’s impending meeting with Galenus Vakarian. She wasn’t one to take insults well, especially not from turians.

The Kodiak’s doors rustled open and her mother strode out, flanked by two of her officers. Her customary limp was almost unnoticeable, you could only see if it you knew it was there. Hannah ascended the stairs to the walkway and caught sight of her daughter.

“Jane!”

“Hi mom.”

The admiral took three long steps and hugged her daughter for a long time, and the two officers waited and casually admired the Kodiak from above.

“How did you know I was coming? I was going to surprise you. And what happened to your lip?”

“I got a tip from a friend,” Shepard smiled. “The lip was a training accident. Don’t worry, it will have more cuts joining it soon.”

“I hope not. And I bet it was Dmitri, his father has connections everywhere. Does that mean you made the program? Congratulations!” Hanna beamed at Shepard and ruffled her hair affectionately.

“Something like that, and yeah, I did. So where are we going to celebrate?”

Hannah sighed. “We aren’t going anywhere right now. I have to see that reprobate, Galenus Vakarian, about a repair dock.”

Her mother started towards the elevator, with Shepard walking beside her.

“Is the Orizaba that damaged?”

“We have a hull breach in the bow, over the shuttle hangar. It’s welded pro tem, but we need to remove a bulkhead to get the job done properly, and see how deep the impact of the missile went. I’d rather not risk taking her through another relay. Problem is, Vakarian is stalling me, for some reason.”

“A missile that can breach a dreadnought?”

“Oh, I say one, it was a proper shelling from an old turian cruiser, re-painted with Eclipse colors. We came upon a war band of Blue Suns and Eclipse raiders targeting one of our colonies.”

“Slavers?”

“Once. Now they’re little more than flotsam,” Hannah said with a grim smile. “We have some former captives aboard the Orizaba we need to transfer, salarians, asari, a krogan, even a few turians. They hit some transport ships before they made an attempt on our turf.”

“Slave raiders... They should all be killed.”

“Yes, they should. And every day I’m stuck here is a day less I’m out there.”

Shepard could see her mother’s mood was less than optimal for a confrontation with the Executor, but she was unsure how she could intervene.

“So.. Can I tag along?”

“Jane, I don’t think that is a good idea. The Vakarians are not good company.”

“Please? I haven’t seen you in so long, and we can go out to eat after, or go to the flat and relax? Or talk about the N7-program? Please?”

“Since when did you get so sentimental?” Hannah chuckled. “All right, but you have to wait in the corridor.”

“That’s fine. I’m sure no bad things will happen in the Embassies.”

 

**2175 CE – June 24 th – Executor’s Office – 10:41 AM**

“Garrus, what are you still doing here? I told you, I have a meeting in 15 minutes.” Galenus nodded at the door.

“I know, dad, and it’s the admiral, isn’t it?”

“Yes, official Citadel business. You can’t be here, I won’t give the dratted female more to complain about.”

Garrus hoped Shepard was running interference with her mother on her end, because his dad was getting antsy by the approaching admiral. He needed to ask about the persistent rumor floating around C-sec since this morning.

“Yeah, but dad.. Some of the officers said that the Orizaba could dock in the hangar for the Destiny Ascension since it’s out on patrol, and that you’re deliberately refusing to prepare it.”

“Who said that?” Galenus snapped.

“Just some people down at the reception,” Garrus said, eyes fixed on the floor.

“I need to have a word with my people about leaks.” Galenus dropped a datapad on the table. “We are not on beck and call for the humans. We have only one repair dock large enough to accommodate non residing dreadnoughts, and it’s occupied for the time being. It will be available when repairs to the Havincaw are done.”

“That could take weeks,” Garrus said.

“Son, this is above your ken. The humans must be dealt with in a firm hand.”

“But they have a breached hull, and-..”

“Spirits, Garrus, you will not question me!” Galenus gave his son an angry glare. “I will not have my actions doubted by my own family, understood? Not to mention one that has yet to earn his citizenship!”

Garrus opened his mouth plates to speak, but caught the slight tremble in his father’s hand and the way his eyes flickered at the decanter. The admiral’s presence always evoked ghosts from the past, and sometimes even his stoic, rational father had problems dealing with the lingering burden of the relay incident.

“Right,” he said instead. “I’ll just.. be waiting outside.”

“I hope for your sake the admiral doesn’t bring her daughter. I know how much you dislike her, and she you. Perhaps it would be better if you fetched your mother and went back to my place.”

Garrus clamped down on his subvocals, trying to avoid exposure.

“I’m sure that’s okay. We’re in the Embassy complex, after all. What can they do here?”

 

* * *

 

The elevator gave of a continuous metallic whirr as they were pulled upwards into the bowels of C-sec and its customs department. Inside, the two officers from the Orizaba went through without a hitch, but when her mother’s turn was up, the turian deputy with the scanner held her back. The admiral’s face looked like a thundercloud.

“I’m sorry, admiral Shepard, but I need to see the permit for those implants. They could be construed as wea-..”

“Yes, yes. This again. Here!” She thrust out a white datapad.

The turian examined the pad laboriously, as if trying to find a fault, but the Alliance didn’t make that kind of mistake.

“It seems to be in order,” he said and gave the pad back.

“How astute of you.”

“No need for that, admiral. I’m just doing my job.”

“Yes, your kind all say that.”

The turian let her leave, and Hannah continued her advance on the embassy. One of her officers stayed behind with customs to organize the embarkation of the freed slaves to the Citadel, and the second gave a quick salute and went to give a report to ambassador Udina.

Hannah and Shepard walked on alone, but Shepard could see her mother discreetly roll her shoulder.

“How’s the arm? I can see the glowing orange light has subsided.”

Hannah smiled.

“The arm’s just fine, but sometimes I miss having my own bones. And I got the nice people from Cerberus to adjust the light behind the eye. I looked like a monster.”

“I wouldn’t say nice,” Shepard said. “They’re almost as shifty as Conatix.”

“We’ve had this discussion before, they are one of our most well-organized research companies. And what do the three heads stand for?” Hannah raised an eyebrow to her mistrusting child.

“Aegis, aid and armament. Fancy emblem with the big dog and all, but they’re still a little too slippery for my taste. And they have a lot of fingers in a lot of pies.”

“Now you’re parroting your uncle.”

“He does have a point, doesn’t he?”

“Jane, they were the only company with the expertise to repair my injuries after that incident with Saren. I should’ve killed that turian when I had the chance.”

“And started another war? With the Citadel this time?”

Hannah stopped and gave her a piercing glare.

“Did David give you a list of complaints to throw at me?”

“No. Should he?”

“Hmmph.”

She turned and climbed the stairs two at the time, and Shepard had to run to keep up.

“Mom, just.. keep it brief and let’s get out of here. I’m sure the ambassador will arrange to have something done faster.”

“The ambassador never does anything he thinks he can’t win, and Vakarian is being obstinate on purpose.”

They walked through a bright lit corridor and avoided the oncoming traffic of people trailing in and out of their offices. There was not a lot in terms of ornamentation or decorations in the embassies, but the place gave an impression of being immaculately clean and shining, to the point where Shepard felt like she a dirty interloper. She supposed a whole lot of nothing in terms of furniture would not offend any of the different lodging species.

“Mom, about the Executor, don’t make a ruckus. You getting banged up in the C-Sec jail won’t get me to earth faster.”

“Jane, did I imply that I would be the one to start any type of violence? But rest assured, if it does, I will finish it.”

That ominous tone should come with a warning bell, Shepard thought. Her mother was in one of her unpredictable humors, and there was no telling what she might do.

“Here we are,” Hanna said and stopped in front of the door carrying a metal plaque reading ‘Galenus Vakarian. Executor.’ The door and the walls where made of glass, or some other transparent material, but viewer access was blocked by shutters. Hannah tapped the metal plate with her knuckles and scoffed.

“The sobriquet is almost correct.”

“Mom, I know he’s a Vakarian, but please, don’t do anything rash.”

“You know me, honey.” Hannah smiled innocuously and entered the door, and

Shepard caught a glimpse of the ash gray turian turian with blue markings before it closed again. She’d only ever seen Galenus Vakarian in holos, and though he bore some resemblance to his son, Garrus was more silver than-.

“Shepard.”

“Argh!”

She jumped to one side, arms up in a fight stance before she saw who it was.

“For the sake of the gods, Garrus, will you please stop doing that,” she said, lowering her arms.

“Sorry, forgot you’re jumpy like a volus with a credit chit. Come over here.”

She followed him to a vacant office, and he pulled off his visor and plugged it to a small holo-pad.

“Dad is pretty riled up, I hope you had better luck than me,” he said. “Oh, and you smell nice.”

“Uh, thanks. No luck on the mother front. She’s rather angry about being stuck out there with a hole in her ship. Can’t your dad find anything?”

After spending an entire year with him, Shepard knew when he tried to avoid telling the truth, because he always started fidgeting with his talons and avoiding her gaze.

“Garrus? Is there a place where the Orizaba can dock?”

“Yes, but dad says he won’t budge for the humans, they have to wait like everyone else,” he admitted.

“Fuck.. I bet my mom knows somehow. She was rather pissed, what with the captives from the raids needing to be carried in by shuttles and whatnot.”

Garrus frowned, and Shepard doubted he’d heard about that earlier.

“What captives?”

“The Orizaba stopped a slave raid on a human colony when it got damaged. Turned out they’d already attacked some transport shuttles, and they had slaves on board.”

“Any turians?”

“Yes, a few..wait a minute! Are you saying my mother would have left the turians to die out there?”

“No, of course not.” Garrus started to tinker with the pad again.

“Garrus..?” She gave him a skeptical stare.

“Look, I just bugged my dad’s office, do you want in or not?”

“You’re gonna eavesdrop on your father? Sneaky.”

“Yes, and since when do you say ‘gonna’?”

“Since I’ve been hanging with Wrex. All right, Vakarian, dazzle me with your technical acumen.”

“At least I know you didn’t learn that last word from a krogan,” he said with a grin, pushed a button and the flickered screen online.

“It’s one-way, so they can’t hear us.”

“Just as well. They’d probably faint.” Shepard stopped talking when the heated conversation on the other side of the office walls crackled on the small speaker.

 

* * *

 

“That’s enough fake pleasantries, Vakarian. You know why I’m here.”

“Your ship will be admitted in due course. There is no special privileges on this station.”

The pair of them had not been face to face for many years. Even when circumstances forced them to attend the same event, they deliberately avoided each other with great success. To the better for all, Galenus thought. There was something about this human that rattled his cage, bringing back memories of the actual cage he once inhabited. The admiral’s physical appearance hadn’t changed much in those years, the same face with deeper lines. To think that she had once taken care of his wounds, and, according to some highly classified data the Hierarchy had managed to scrounge from a disloyal file clerk, saved him from ending up in small specimen jars. She’d been kind and smiling. Standing here with her now, he saw little remaining of those character traits. This Shepard was hard and unforgiving, and if she smiled, it was a sarcastic lip twinge that left him cold. He, a fully grown turian, feared the vengeful woman in front of him.

“I guess all the allowances has been doled out,” she said, giving him a passing glance before resting her eyes on his decanter. He kept it around purely as a test, but her knowing smirk made him regret it.

The implication was clear, and Galenus struggled not to rise to her jibe.

“I have it on good authority that the Havincaw will be finished within the week, two at the most,” he said, trying to remain calm.

It wasn’t as if she could hear his subvocals, but one never knew with some humans.

“Is that a fact? I have it on good authority that the pride of the Citadel, the Destiny Ascension is out on patrol. I also know that its berth is currently empty. A remarkable coincidence that the Citadel can’t accommodate another dreadnought in its place.”

“The two dreadnought classes are different, and the Destiny Ascension is designed for the Citadel.”

“Which means, you’re telling me that the Kilimanjaro class, which is at least four times smaller than the Citadel’s flagship won’t fit? You’ll have to lie better than that, Executor.”

“You know the Ascension’s berth can only fit half the ship due to its size. The readjustment to the suction cranes to compensate for the difference would take-..”

Hannah cut him off.

“16 hours with double shifts, 37 hours tops, and I would be able to do the necessary repairs before heading through the relay and return to the Attican Traverse. The filth trickling out of Khar’shan these days is considerable.” She flashed him a smile that didn’t reach the eyes.

To his annoyance, Galenus found her to be conspicuously well informed on their work times. More leaks, or perhaps the human ambassador had more spies than anticipated. Nevertheless, he could not let her win. The decision was made, and he would stand by it.

“That is irrelevant. It will be as I’ve ordered.”

The second those words had left his mouth, he knew he’d made a mistake. The admiral looked like a krogan playing with its food.

“Familiar words,” she said. “But I’ve always known human lives were irrelevant to you, Vakarian.”

“Careful, admiral, slander is-..”

“Oh, but it’s not slander if it’s true. The lives of the men and women under my command means little to a turian, it seems. No, let them stay out there, in space, with a potential lethal hull breach. They’re only humans, after all.”

In the years leading up to his capture, Galenus had never truly believed in the presence of spirits, neither good nor bad. They’d been a familiar religious concept, a comfort to his mother and a casual phrase he used in stressing circumstances. After the relay incident, he’d began practicing his childhood faith, and right now, he felt in his bones that he was looking at an avatar for spirits of wrath and anguish, born in the aftermath of Starysibirsk. They were not entirely unjustified, he forced himself to admit. If their roles were reversed and he’d lost Vistilla, he wondered if his high principles would have survived that kind of trial. As it was, he badly wanted a drink.

“Admiral Shepard, the past is-.” he began, but was interrupted again.

“Not so distant as you’d like me to think. Looking for a repeat performance? Burning all those children to death made you Executor. Perhaps a blazing dreadnought will promote you another couple of tiers, get you elected primarch? I should know, it did wonders for my career.”

Hannah Shepard smiled her dead smile, and Galenus, for the first time in years, felt his self control dwindle. The nightmares, the alcohol, the endless line of scorched human faces in a dark cave, his gravest mistake, thrown back in his face with pitiless accuracy. He swallowed, trying to contain the resentment that festered in him like an abscess, but she was like a lance, determined to cut him, and he hated her for it. Without his customary steel composure, his subvocals began to thrum in the lowest register.

* * *

On the other side of the wall, Garrus drew his breath sharply.

“Spirits, no. No, that can’t be happening.”

The screen almost fell out of his talons, but Shepard grabbed it before it hit the floor.

“What? They’re trading a few barbs, but other than that..”

“Can’t you hear? No, you can’t. It’s his subvocals. He’s threatening her.”

“Are you serious? They can’t be that stupid.”

Garrus gave her a look that suggested he thought otherwise.

“All right, there is a slight chance, but so far they’ve limited themselves to declining help and recounting the past,” she said.

“It’s more than that. My dad, he.. I told you he drinks, back on Gagarin? He doesn’t drink, he binges, but only when his nerves are frayed, and I’ve never heard him like this before. Not ever! And the few times I’ve seen him act remotely like this is when the relay incident comes up.”

“First contact war,” Shepard said absentmindedly and tried to listen to the other conversation.

“Did you hear me?” Garrus pleaded and grabbed her arm. “If my dad strikes your mother when she’s not actually done anything to attack him, he might lose his job and get his colony marks etched off.”

“Garrus, that’s not gonna happen. Mom can be a real pain, but she’s lashing out for a reason. Two reasons today, in fact, but your father is the damn Executor. He can handle situations like this, it’s his job.”

She lifted the holoscreen again, but Garrus put his hand on the pad and pushed it aside, and from the expression on his face, Shepard could see he was distraught.

“Not with _her_. That’s personal. She saved dad’s life during the war, and instead of repaying it, he took something precious from her. That and the bombing, mom said it creates a mark in an honorable turian, like a sealed wound that won’t heal. It rips open when you put strain on it. That’s the only things she told me about dad’s involvement in the relay incident, and I never connected all the dots until I learned the whole truth.”

“You really think your father will have a breakdown in there?”

“I can hear him,” Garrus said. “He’s straining to keep control, but your mother, she’s..”

“Relentless.” Shepard finished. “If we go knock on the door, I think they’ll just throw us out and continue.”

“It’s likely, but we need to do something!”

“Are they still going at it?”

“Let me hear,” he said and lifted the pad to his ear.

* * *

_“..killed through your infamous career and you think you can come into my office and rebuke me?” Galenus voice came through the speaker. “Damn you, human!”_

_“The turian finally shows his colors,”_ came Hannah’s dry answer. _“Vandals in plates.”_

_“Quiet! Your people are nothing but troglodytes, hiding in caves, shrinking from your betters!”_

_“Need a lighter? To make your point abundantly clear?”_

_“Shepard….”_

* * *

“Shepard, he’s... We need to do something!” Garrus implored.

“Okay, we’ll go in.”

They hurried towards the Executor’s office, but no amount of knocking opened the door, and the locks were engaged. The little pad still screeched out the heated exchange.

“Spirits, dad is going to be fired. Or worse!” Garrus grabbed her hand. “Shepard, please help. I know what he did, but he’s still my dad!”

“I know, Garrus. Let me think..”

“Think faster!”

“Fire alarm?”

“Need a real fire.”

“Make a scene?”

“We’ll be carried away by the guards.”

“Maybe not. Are these walls blast proof?”

“What? No, only the outside windows. These can withstand a chair or two, though.”

“How about two dimwits?”

He narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“How much do you remember from hand to hand training? It’s only been a month or so.”

“Shepard, no.”

“Garrus, yes. I don’t have any other ideas.”

“This is going to hurt, isn’t it?” he said, knocking on the glass.

“I’ll use shield, we won’t cut ourselves crashing through. Can’t promise on the landing.”

“We’re actually staging a fight in the embassy area where all the diplomats work. Ironic.”

“Got a better idea?”

“No.”

“All right then. One, two..”

* * *

A bright purple flash erupted in Galenus Vakarian’s office as two figures ruptured the wall in a shower of glass fragments, then proceeded to roll around on the floor, trying to land vicious punches and cursing like sailors.

“Fucking turian!” Shepard roared, punching Garrus straight on his flat nose.

“Augh! Pyjak!” he yelled back, grabbed her arm and twisted it hard.

She let out a cry of pain and they rolled around a few more times, switching positions, pummeling each other where they could reach and cutting themselves on the glass. After an illegal leg-lock, Garrus almost managed to get the upper hand. His opponent wasn’t about to give up without an underhanded last trick of her own, and Shepard slammed her free hand on his chest, flaring her biotics in a swirling orb. To his surprise it didn’t hurt at all, but as the minute tremors from the orb reverberated deliciously through his plates, the humming sound hit him straight in the chest, making it sound like Shepard could purr. His own subvocals stirred instinctively, wanting to answer the only way he knew how, and he barely remembered his father was in the room. With a tremendous effort, he strangled the purr and clamped his mandibles to his face. It came out as a strained chirrup. Galenus mistook it for pain and thrummed angrily.

“Get your hellish spawn off my child before I do!”

“Jane, stop. You’re hurting the boy,” Hannah snapped and grabbed her daughter by the scruff of her neck to pull her away.

Garrus let out a small whine when the connection broke, and luckily his father mistook that too for pain.

“Listen to what you did, you animal! He can hardly breathe!”

“What is the meaning of this, Jane?” her mother demanded and held her by the collar of her shirt.

“Don’t like turians,” Shepard muttered, trying to look a little guilty. “Especially not that one.”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t like _you_! I hate you!” Garrus shouted from the floor. He’d recovered enough of his faculties to continue their charade. “And I got the first punch.”

“Enough, son.” Galenus helped Garrus to his feet. “Are you all right?” he said and brushed debris off his suit. Tiny trickles of blue had seeped through where the glass cut him from rolling around on the floor.

“I’ll be better when she leaves.” Garrus glared at Shepard the younger, trying to look like the human hating turian he was supposed to be.

Seconds later a full retinue of guards and Vistilla Vakarian came running down the corridor. The guard lieutenant took in the scene with a serene calm.

“Sir, we heard the noise, what happened?”

Galenus stared from his son, the apparent instigator of the attack on little-Shepard, whom was pointedly looking down at her boots. Neither of them uttered a word.

“A minor misunderstanding,” he said finally. “Kids being kids.”

 

Vistilla hurried into the room and inspected her son’s cuts from the glass and the bleeding nose, but where her mate was busy observing the obvious, she heard something different. Or rather, it was what she couldn’t hear. Garrus had just been in a big fight with his family’s most prominent adversary, and add to that a female he supposedly despised, and yet, his subvocals were dead silent. Galenus busied himself with explaining away the incident with the guards, and the admiral ordered her daughter to accompany her to the human embassy. Vistilla pretended to look in the other direction for a moment, and the young Shepard female cast one last glance back when she thought herself unnoticed and winked at her son. Winked! Garrus’ mandibles wiggled slightly and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Still no subvocals, which was revelation enough in itself. This fight had been a sham, and her silly son was in all likelihood in love with a human. With a _Shepard_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another very early release, but I'm feeling generous today since I've been writing steadily and has kept away from the overtime carousel. That pleasure cruise will come to an end in October, so for now, enjoy the small reveals in this chapter :) Bigger things to follow later.


	47. A trip to the doctor's office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vistilla gets to the bottom of things, and Shepard meets new people.

In the span of ten minutes, Vistilla’s relative peace of mind regarding the world and her family was shattered into tiny incomprehensible fragments, all swirling around the ceaseless whirlpool of the Shepards, and she needed to reassemble some of the pieces, with her son’s help.

“Garrus, would you come with me?”

“Vistilla, he need to go to the clinic;” Galenus said. “Look at those cuts.”

“Dearest, right now the admiral and her daughter is probably realizing the same thing, do you want those two in the same room again?”

“It’s just a few nicks. I’m all right.” Garrus checked his shirt and pants. “I might need some new civvies.”

“I’ll take him down there after, right now I want to talk to him. I’m sure he’s had a terrible shock.”

Vistilla gave Garrus a knowing smile, and saw her collaborator son get instantly suspicious.

“Maybe, uh, the clinic isn’t such a bad idea,” he said, edging towards the door.

“No, your mother is right. Better to wait a moment. I’ll clear things with the guards.”

“You heard your father,” Vistilla said. “Come along.”

She guided him to a vacant office on the left, and saw her son’s visor and a datapad on the desk. It still transmitted from the office of the Executor. After closing the door, she pointed at the evidence with a long sharp talon.

“Care to explain yourself?”

“Just trying some things out,” Garrus said defiantly. “I was going to fetch the receiver in dad’s office, but then Shepard showed up and-..”

“Don’t lie to me, Garrus.” Vistilla met her son’s eyes with a soft hum. “Not even an awful truth can hurt as much as my own blood trying to deceive me.”

They stood in silence for a long while, Garrus shuffling uncomfortably, and she patiently waiting for his reply. It took several minutes of pondering, but when he looked up, he held his head high and unashamed.

“I won’t lie, but I can’t reveal secrets that are not my own. If I say I can’t tell you, you’ll have to trust me.”

Vistilla was surprised at this turn in her son, but not unpleasantly so. He looked older than his years.

“I will. Tell me about the female friend you went to see yesterday. It was Shepard, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. We went to the shooting range, and I totally won, by the way, then we went to see a vid and later she bought me dinner.”

“She bought you dinner?” Vistilla hid a smile.

“Well, yeah, I won, right? Only fair.”

“Very fair. So, you and Shepard junior has been friends for a while?”

Garrus sighed and took a deep breath.

“We’ve been friends since.. I think she’s been my friend since I got drunk and made a fool of myself on Gagarin. She covered for me. I was too angry to accept her friendship at the time, and it took me a little longer to get around.”

“You were drinking at boot?! Garrus Vakarian, are you out of your mind!?” Vistilla said, giving him a stern motherly glare, but Garrus stood firm and accepted her disapproval.

“I know. It was after I talked to dad about the relay incident.”

He let the words linger, and Vistilla understood the hint. That was a conversation for another day.

“And the highly advanced human-make sniper rifle stuffed in the back of my gun locker? Reward for being the best sniper on the station?”

“I _was_ the best sniper on the station, but no. Shepard gave me that after Eden.”

“She gave it to you? A rifle worth hundreds of thousands of credits?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“That’s one of the questions you can’t ask.”

“Fair enough. What does Eden have to do with the Alliance’s newfound interest in the health of turians?”

“I can’t answer that either.”

“Which means it’s Shepard related,” Vistilla smiled.

“I never said that!” Garrus protested.

“Sorry, son. Next question. This fight today, it was pure theater, yes?”

“Yes. I heard about dad’s decision regarding the dreadnought, and I warned Shepard. She tagged along with the admiral to try and calm her. It.. didn’t work out.”

“The admiral is a forceful personality. What did you hear on the scanner?” Vistilla glanced at the visor.

“They argued, and dad started thrumming at her. It was very aggressive, and I asked Shepard for help. She does well with improvisation.”

Garrus smiled, as if remembering an old memory.

“Smashing the window?”

“We were short on time, the door wouldn’t open and she used her biotics to protect us from the breaking glass. We got some cuts and scrapes from rolling on the floor, but it was worth the risk.”

“You really believe your father was about to attack the admiral?”

“I do. I’ve never heard him like that. She accused him of burning small children to advance his career, and he lost his temper and called all humans savages, cowering before their betters. I thought he was gonna eviscerate her.”

Vistilla was shocked.

“Spirits! The admiral has an uncanny insight into what sets your father off. And please don’t use that awful slang, Garrus.”

“Yes, mom.”

“And then you crashed through the window.”

“Yes, mom.”

“And staged a fight in front of your dad.”

“Yes, mom.”

“And are you in love with Shepard?”

“Ye-.. MOM!”

The look of righteous indignation on his face was a sight to behold. Vistilla trilled a laugh and watched her son’s deep blue neck.

“Oh, son, that was too easy. You think you can hide something like that from your mother?”

“Don’t tell dad!” Garrus gave her an imploring look. “He won’t like it.”

“Like it?” Vistilla said with a resigned chuckle. “He’d throw himself in the lake.”

“And we don’t want that, do we,” Garrus said darkly.

“Relax, Garrus. Does the human share your feelings?”

“Do you think I would call her by her last name all the time if she did? She already has a boyfriend,” he said and sat down on the desk.

“And you just gave up?”

His mandibles drooped.

“What?”

“You think I gained your fathers attention by giving up? When we were young, he dated some asari floozy. I shrugged it off, became an outstanding engineer, dated other turians and excelled at my job. I thrived. When he was single again, he was practically begging at my door. Then I made him wait.”

“Really?”

He sounded so hopeful, Vistilla felt her heart break for him.

“Yes. Be friendly, keep in touch, and if it’s meant to be, it will. And if you ever tell your father I said this, I’ll disown you in a heartbeat.”

He stood up and laughed. “Might be a long wait.”

“Not unless you sit at home and pine the whole time. You’re young, have some fun.”

“She kissed me once,” Garrus confessed. Maybe twice, if you count on the crest. And I kissed her once, too. I liked it.”

“Is that the lip thing humans do? Spirits, I did not need to know that.”

“They’re very soft,” Garrus said dreamily. “And they taste nice.”

“Don’t make me reconsider my advice, son,” Vistilla smiled.

 

* * *

 

“Are you still bleeding, Jane?” Hannah stopped in front the reception desk and checked Shepard’s clothes.

“Nah, it’s all right,” Shepard said quickly to avoid further scrutiny. “One long scratch on my arm and some minor cuts. I was on top for the most of the time.”

“And that kid attacked you. Truly, that whole family is poison.”

“Uhm, well, I might have said a few things to set him off. Kind of a two way street, that.” She didn’t want her mother to make an official complaint, it was better to assume some blame.

“Hmm.. I think Vakarian himself might’ve blown a gasket if you hadn’t dropped in on us. Shame, really. It would have been interesting.”

Shepard couldn’t hear if her mother was being sarcastic or honest, but it was clear she didn’t fear Vakarian the elder one bit. Perhaps she would fear consequences instead.

“Would you like to be grounded on the Citadel while the Alliance does a ‘conduct unbecoming’ investigation into what could have happened here?”

Hannah sighed.

“You know, sometimes I think your uncle has brainwashed you to repeat all his talking points. Why can’t you be more like Wrex?”

They both had a good chuckle at that.

“All right, I’ll try and behave, I need to see the ambassador anyway before I return to talk to my maintenance officer. Why don’t you get those scratches looked at, then we’ll met at the apartment and have dinner?”

“Sure. Don’t make me come get you at the C-sec detention center,” Shepard said.

“Hah! If anything, I’ll be stuck in a room with Udina, listening to him drone on about outrages. That would be even worse, at least the jails serves food.”

 

**2175 CE – June 24 th – Med Clinic, Upper Wards– 12:36 PM**

The clinic was almost empty when Shepard walked in, highly unusual for such a big station, but Shepard guessed the more unsavory characters with injuries kept away because of the proximity to C-sec’s main office. There were two other patients in front of her, and Shepard sat down to wait. A dark gray salarian intern greeted the first patient, a turian female with a bad case of plate molt and bade her come into the doctors office. The second patient was a volus with a hiccup, he was instructed to wait a little further away from everyone else in the room, but when he came to greet her, the professional demeanor vanished, and he grinned in an overly enthusiastic way.

“Hi, are you Shepard? Of course you are. My name is Zilern Ravarn, but you can call me Ravarn. Oh, but has he told you about me? Bet he hasn’t. So typical. I’m the boyfriend. Mate, really. Lovers, when I think about it. He told me what you did for him. I’m very grateful. So are his family, even if they don’t know to whom they should extend the gratitude. So horrible, so tragic. Anyway, I hope you aren’t very hurt? I see some blood? Does it hurt? Need a painkiller?”

Shepard stared at the salarian with her mouth open. How could one small chest contain air enough for that tirade? And who was this guy?

“Uhm,” she said, but the salarian calling himself Ravarn had inhaled enough air to start his engine again.

“Oh, right, I didn’t say. I’m talking about Castor. You know Castor right, adorable yellow eyes, dark brown plates and missing an arm? Well, until July. Then he’ll get a new one. Told him he doesn’t need to worry, I love him anyway. He talks about you all the time. If you were a male, I’d be worried. As you’re not, it’s fine. Humans are interesting creatures. One rarely sees humans and turians being friends. All the better, I say. No more wars, please.”

“Right, no more wars. I’m fine, really, don’t need any painkillers, but-..”

“Oh, wait, wait, we simply must take a holo together, I want to show Castor I’ve met you. You’re rather nice for a human, most of them tell me to shut up, but you’re very understanding. Give me three seconds.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Shepard said and resigned herself to the inevitable death by talking salarian while she waited for a strip of medigel.

“He can be such a fusspot, that turian,” Ravarn continued. “But he’s so sweet to me.” The omni-tool was ready, and he lifted his arm. “Smile!”

Shepard’s face broke into an evil grin and said quickly: “Why don’t you tell me about Castor’s sweet side, I’ve only ever seen the warrior.”

Ravarn flashed all his teeth in a big smile back at her.

“Oh, the things I could tell. All turians are ticklish between their foot talons, but Castor is extreme. One small brush, and he’s screaming for mercy. And the fringe. The fringe! Thought I would go deaf when I got the small preening brush and brushed it for him. Almost purred me into a coma.”

“Do go on,” Shepard grinned.

“Sure. Oh, this should interest you, being a human and all. Humans have these interesting buzzing things, specially made for sexual gratification? Put that on a turian’s seam, and it’s his turn to almost pass out. We discovered that by accident, really. it’s hard to juggle many things at once, even for a salarian. But, it all worked out for the best. Wonderful human invention.”

Shepard briefly regretted what she had unleashed upon herself, but the salarian happily continued his oversharing until it was her turn at the doctor. The salarian grabbed her hand and shook it.

“Very nice meeting you, Shepard. I should probably go help the other intern. Michel always loses time whenever a C-Sec officer comes by with an injury. I think she does it on purpose. Drives doctor Mordin up the wall. Poor girl. It’s not socially acceptable, you know. Humans and turians? She talks about that a lot.”

“Another salarian?” Shepard said, cutting past intern Michel’s turian woes.

“Yes. He’s here as a temporary stand in for doctor Jansen. Favor between friends and cutting edge research, he said. He says a lot of things. Talks a lot, that one. All the time.” Ravarn edged closer. “I think he’s looking for someone. Doctor Jansen’s accident sure was timely for doctor Mordin. Always out, asking questions.”

“Wait, what are you saying?” Shepard stared at Ravarn. “He can’t be trusted?”

“The guy has a broken horn. Told me it came off in a sky-car accident. My cloaca it did. I know a wound caused by a piercing object anywhere. In fact, I specialized in medical school. Being a doctor seems so ordinary. Pathologist is much more interesting. My gut says he’s former-..”

“Next!” A one horned salarian stood in the door, demanding attention.

“I guess that’s me,” Shepard said. “What were you going to say?”

“Nothing.” Ravarn looked glum. “That Michel woman has nothing interesting to talk about. Only turians. Nothing but. And since I’m dating one, she talks to me all the time. Dreadful.”

“Yeah, that sucks. Say hi to Castor for me.” She waved at him and walked after the white-robed salarian.

“Bye, Shepard.”

* * *

Inside Mordin’s office the walls were covered with specimen jars in all shapes and sizes, and Shepard couldn't stop herself from staring if she tried. There were small preserved fish, tiny eggs, a varren fetus, even a fully grown pyjak floating in a giant aquarium and many many more.

“You like my collection? Have lots more. Not here, though,” the salarian said, picking up a datapad.

“They’re very interesting,” Shepard said. “My name is-.”

“Jane Shepard, born 11th April 2157, probably early due to mother’s effort in first contact war, biotic, probably caused by mother exposed to eezo in turian dreadnought, impeccable health as far as record goes, no grievous injuries, no mental debilitation caused by biotic instability. No new information for past three years.”

Do they all jabber away like that, Shepard mused. Out loud, she said; “How did you know?”

“Face on every ad-terminal. Hard to miss,” the salarian said, looking smug.

“Ugh.. Should’ve guessed.”

“Better to avoid exposure. Can work more easily. What ailment have you procured?”

“Some scrapes and bruises,” Shepard said, holding out her arm. The blood hand for the most parts congealed, and the bleeding had ceased.

“I see. Fighting on station? Unwise.”

“I agree.”

“Good. Now, pull up sleeve, small dash of medigel should be sufficient.”

Shepard rolled up her sleeve to reveal most of the wound, and the doctor returned with the gel.

“Should heal very fast, not too deep. Hazard guess, caused by small sharp object?”

“Yup. Glass.”

“Hmm. Will use scanner to check for fragments. Not good to-..” he trailed off when he saw the crisscrossing pattern on her arm.

“Talon marks, multiple, healed. Medigel administered. Moving up patient’s arm, probably covering large portion of upper body. Medical records not updated for past three years. Gagarin Station not very efficient,” he said. “Not keeping students safe. Disgraceful.”

“Just.. slather on the gel. That’s all in the past.”

“Know station doctor. He not help?”

“He wanted too, but I declined,” Shepard said dismissively, hoping to stop the direction this conversation was moving.

“I see. No data sent over at all, for anyone. Like information has disappeared. Strange. Did doctor Publius really do nothing to assist?”

The salarian sounded angry.

“I told you, I refused help,” Shepard repeated. “He took a couple of brain scans and some blood test, but that was all I would allow.”

“Brain scans?” Mordin said, cocking his head and blinking rapidly.

“Yeah. Just to, uh, check something. Turned out okay, I think. Just the gel, okay? And don’t mention the scars in my journal. Please?”

“Hmm.. Hmmm. Hmmmm...”

The salarian paced up and down the office a few times, then nodded.

“No mention of scars. Have it bad enough. Take this bag for small cuts. Can’t detect fragments in wounds. Take shower and wash away blood, then put dab of gel on each cut,” he said and handed over a small packet of medigel.

“Right. Thanks, doctor.”

“Stay out of fighting.”

“Will try.”

“Can leave now. Have urgent patient, must check. Might explode if medicine not working. Have put in pressure tank.”

“Oh, right. The volus.”

* * *

Shepard went back to the waiting area, and saw Garrus and his mother sitting in the reception.  
Poor Garrus most likely got the brunt of the injuries, after all she’d been on top. When he spotted her, he got up and came towards her with a sheepish smile. For a split second, she wondered if he’d start another fight to make sure their cover was intact, and prepared to play along.  
Her surprise was therefore all the greater when he shook his head.

“Sorry, Shepard. We’ve been busted.”

“Busted? You mean you blabbed?”

“I have done no such thing,” he bristled. “My mom saw right through me. I should have been signaling anger with my subvocals, and I wasn’t. And because I wasn’t angry..” he said, trying to explain, but Shepard waved him off.

“Yeah, I get that. What did she say? Are you in trouble?”

“No, but, uh, she’d like to meet you.” Garrus smiled his awkward smile again. “Please? She’s quite nice, all in all.”

“Is she going to berate me for all the things I’ve done to you?”

“No. I haven’t told her about that, nor about the details of Eden. That’s our secret.”

The honest look on his face made her believe him.

“All right. I suppose there are some windows I can crash through on my way out of here, if things get too bad,” she said, giving him a nudge with her shoulder.

Garrus laughed. “That’s always a viable option.”

“Fine, lead the way.”

They made their way back to Vistilla, and Shepard took in the sight of the matriarch of the Vakarian clan. Vistilla was gray like the rest of her family, but so light she was almost white. It made a striking contrast with her red colony markings. Shepard had a fleeting thought that the combination between Vistilla and Galenus had given Garrus the silver shine in his plates, and he had her eyes, sparking blue ones, but hers was endowed with maternal shrewdness.

“Jane Shepard, I believe,” she said and rose up while extending her right hand. This was not normal greetings for turians, and Shepard understood the gesture for what it was, a peace offering.

“Yes, mam,” she replied and took the turian’s hand, giving it two shakes before releasing the grip.

“Oh, no need to be so formal when it’s only the three of us here. I’m Vistilla Vakarian. I understand it’s customary for your people to use the last name?”

“Uhm, well, it’s more like a habit for me. Everyone uses the last name in boot, so I’ve gotten used to Shepard.”

“Shepard it is. And quite the showmaker you are, young Shepard. My mate was absolutely convinced you’re a menace to society.”

“Really? Perhaps he and captain Doric Corinthus can start a club,” Shepard smiled. “Commiserating can be cathartic, I hear.”

Vistilla laughed, and Shepard noted Garrus let out a sigh of relief. She raised an eyebrow at him as if to say ‘really, I would be rude to your mother for no reason?’

“I can see why my son holds you in high regard. He loves that rifle you gave him, we could barely get him inside for dinner when he was on Palaven. Always out in the backyard, trying new settings.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Shepard said. “Nobody deserved that more than Garrus. He was the best sniper talent on Gagarin.”

“See? I told you,” Garrus said proudly.

“You haven’t shot against your father yet, I’ll withhold judgment until then.”

Whenever she mentioned Galenus, Vistilla made an almost imperceptible glance at Shepard, but if she was looking for some sort of anger or annoyance, she would have to look elsewhere, Shepard thought. Her friendship with Garrus had been sullied enough by the events of the past.

“Hey Garrus, did you see the salarian intern that was here a while ago? That was Castor’s boyfriend.”

“What? Ravarn is working here?”

“Castor has a salarian boyfriend, you knew and never told us?” Shepard crossed her arms in mock anger. “How rude. Gossip is meant to be shared among friends.”

“He never said I could tell,” Garrus shrugged. “I keep my friends’ secrets.”

“Hmph. Well, I guess I won’t share what Ravarn told me about Castor, and turians in general,” Shepard teased. “My my, what an interesting species you are, Castor in particular.”

“Oh, come on! I’m going to boot with him for the next year, I need that information,” Garrus tried.

“Nope. Honorable turians don’t gossip,” Shepard said, taking the high road for her own amusement, and Garrus piled on with a number of more or less believable excuses.

* * *

Vistilla watched the exchange with delight. How unlike her mother this Shepard was, and she obviously cared for Garrus as a friend. She’d never seen her son this lively, and it was a shame they would be parted for the better part of at least a year. Later on, soldiers would be stationed where their commanding officers had need of them, and maintaining a close friendship under these circumstances was strenuous, at best. And these two might end up on opposing sides. Vistilla took a step back to admire a holographic image on the wall of a full sized batarian while her son and Shepard continued to bicker. After ten seconds, the image shifted to a krogan. The incident with the Orizaba was a long line of skirmishes in the Attican Traverse. The humans were expanding rapidly, too much so according to some, including her mate. He was joined in that opinion by his second in command, Pallin, who never cared for the humans attaining an embassy so soon. The result of these diverting opinions could eventually lead to Garrus and his friend fighting on the same battlefield, but on opposing sides. The image of the wall shifted to a human. Vistilla shuddered, as if someone had placed a cold warning hand on her cowl. She watched her son laugh out loud at something Shepard said. Perhaps Galenus was right. C-sec would be a safer place for him until the issue with the humans were resolved. She decided to try a few discreet wiles on both her mate and her son.

* * *

“I think I must be going,” Shepard said finally. “Don’t want mom sending out a rescue party and finding me with you again.”

“That would be disastrous,” Garrus said. “It’s too bad, though. I liked hanging out with you on the Citadel.”

“Hey, I never said we’d stop doing that. We just have to work around the problem.”

“Going undercover, or something?”

“Something. Hey, your mother made me think about _something_ else,” Shepard said. “Since I’m no longer your squad leader, and we’re friends, how about you call me Jane?”

The rapid blinking in his eyes made her think he had some sort of seizure.

“Hellooo? Garrus?”

“That would be.. Don’t you think it’s inappropriate?”

In the corner of her eye, Shepard could see Vistilla hide a chuff.

“No, not really. I’m not going to force you or anything, just letting you know the option is there.”

She gave him a reassuring pat on the arm.

“See you later Garrus.” She turned to Vistilla. “Nice to meet you, Vistilla.”

“Same here, Shepard.”

After that she left, leaving Garrus and his mandibles to fight over whether to wiggle happily or droop miserably.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's another very early chapter, but I have my doubts it will happen next week. It's back on full overtime, and that is always a drain on my muse. I've never really appreciated how great school was, until I got a mortgage, a car loan and had to repay my student loan. That being said, I probably said the same thing in school, "Oh, wow, I can't wait until I get out of this hellhole and make some money."  
> Ah well..  
> We're getting real close to do some time hopping, so be prepared. :)


	48. Friends lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus and Four does a year of training without Shepard, and learns some hard lessons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for some time hopping, keep an eye on the dates in bold to keep up :)

**2175 CE – June 27 th – Azure Delights diner – 12:02 PM**

“I can’t believe you talked me into going to a double date with your friend when it’s your last day on the Citadel,” Decian complained. “I wanted to stay in bed a little longer.”

“You told me yourself, little Decian wouldn’t be able to come out and play for a month after yesterday, and I promised Dmitri I’d come.” Shepard patted Decian on the thigh under the table. “He’s finally convinced that asari he’s been drooling over for months to go on a date with him in public.”

“In public?” Decian said skeptically. “What is he, some sort of suspected serial killer?”

“No, apparently she’s famous, or something. We’re not to bring it up unless she does.”

“Okay.”

“No questions?” Shepard gave him a smile.

“No. I trust you. Dmitri not so much, but if he finds someone else to flash his floppy, dangling penis, I’ll be a happy turian.”

“Please don’t mention that while we’re eating, might make the asari run away.”

“Yes, yes. There they are.”

Dmitri came into the diner, arm in arm with a tall stunning asari dressed in a sweeping lapis blue frock, which hugged all the right curves. The color accentuated her blue skin, and her big toothy smile was fixed on Dmitri. Decian stared at the pair.

“How did a guy like that get an asari like her?”

“Dmitri is a great guy, and please stop staring at her waist, you ogler.”

“I wasn’t ogling,” he protested, but Shepard had already gotten up to greet the pair.

“Hi, Jane Shepard, and this is-..” she gave Chellick a small discreet nudge with her foot.

“Uh, I’m Decian Chellick. Pleased to meet you.”

“Very pleased to meet both of you,” the asari smiled. “I’m Eriela T’Loak.”

That made Chellick gasp, and Shepard grin.

“Dmitri, you never told me I had a rival in the who’s got the most infamous mother competition.”

Dmitri groaned. “Jane, you promised.”

“Rival? I think not,” Eriela said. “When your mother owns her own evil empire out in the Terminus systems, we’ll talk.”

Shepard and Eriela pretended to stare each other down for a minute, then they both burst out laughing. The accompanying males drew a relieved breath.

“Dmitri warned me against you,” Eriela said and sat down. “Said you had an odd taste in men and said the strangest things. Good for you, I say. No need to be boring.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow at Dmitri, and for once, the jester shrank under her gaze. Wow, he must practically worship at this woman’s feet, Shepard thought.

“I agree. If these two bore us,” she said aloud and nodded at the guys, “there’s no reason the two of us can’t leave and have some fun.” Shepard gave Eriela her most smoldering stare.

“Oh, I agree,” the asari said and entwined her fingers with Shepard’s. “Males can be such sticks in the mud, is that not the idiom. And such small sticks at that.”

Their little act got a duet of denials from the guys, and both Chellick and Dmitri grabbed on to their females and dragged them apart.

“This was worse than I expected,” Dmitri grunted. “I should have bought better friends.”

“He really should have,” Shepard said, grinning like a demon, “We came cheap. How much did you cost?”

Dmitri almost went into hysterics and Chellick groaned and covered his eyes, but Eriela laughed out loud.

“Finally, somebody that isn’t afraid of my last name. Dmitri, why did you hide your friends so long?”

“Is it not obvious?”

The waiter was summoned hastily by waving the credit chit in the air, and he glared at Shepard.

“Perhaps some food will stop that talk. We should talk about normal things, like-..”

“Shotguns or pistols?” Eriela said to Shepard.

“Shotguns and rifles, actually, if I can’t get in position to use biotics.”

“Splendid! We must fight each other one day,” Eriela said, brimming with enthusiasm. “I’ve heard you’re a powerful biotic fighter.”

“Not so bad,” Shepard admitted. “How about you?”

“Well, compared to my mother, I...”

 

If Dmitri had hoped for a calm and serene goodbye dinner, he was sadly mistaken. His girlfriend and Jane was getting on like a house on fire, and while it was great to see them became such fast friends, he felt a little neglected, and by the look of him, so did Shepard’s turian. It was because he was observing the other male, that Dmitri saw him clamp his mandibles to his face and stare out of the window.

“Spirits, no, no, no, that’s my uncle!”

“Pallin is here?” Shepard said, looking up alarmed.

“Yes, and I think he saw me.”

“Is that bad,” Eriela asked.

“Turians and humans, dating? Not so good,” Dmitri said. “We switch places. Jane, sit by me, and Eriela sit by Decian. No groping, turian.”

“Quickly,” Decian hissed.

When Venari Pallin entered the booth where he thought he’d seen his nephew, he found him with his arm around a beautiful asari, and seated opposite were the COO of Rosenkov Materials and admiral Shepard's daughter. The latter was obviously a pair, whispering to each other and holding hands. While it was admirable that his nephew was making acquaintances among the big human companies, the presence of the Shepard human was most unwelcome.

“Decian, I hope you haven’t forgotten our appointment later today,” he said. “I was hoping we could bump that up an hour or two, get started on the necessary paperwork.” His subvocals translated the missing words, come with me now!”

“But I, uh,” Decian said and looked around uncomfortably. Pallin understood.

“I will give you a moment to take leave of your lovely lady.”

“Ah, yes, I would like that moment for a chat, director Pallin ” Dmitri said. “In private?”

“But of course,” Pallin said.

After the two of them left, Shepard again switched places with Eriela and threw her hands around Chellick.

“I’m gonna miss you.”

“And I you. Maybe a whole year,” he said quietly. “How am I going to survive?”

“I’ll call and message, whenever I can.”

“You better!”

He pressed his forehead to hers, and even sneaked a kiss from her before they heard Dmitri and Pallin return.

“Love you,” he whispered.”

“Love you too.”

 

* * *

 

“Do not look so sad , Jane,” Dmitri said, trying to rally his friend. “Even if you leave your turian here, there is probably many naked sexy men in new training program. Not sexy like me, but life is unfair, yes?”

After having hung her head for the last blocks, that made Shepard laugh.

“I’m going to miss that self-esteem. If I had half that, I’d manage all the tests without a hitch.”

They had arrived at the Destiny Ascension dock, made ready by the extensive efforts of Udina. Shepard had an inkling he had to call in quite a few favors to arrange the fast repair of the Orizaba, just to be rid of the potential political shitstorm of having her mother and Galenus Vakarian stuck in the same space station for any length of time. Eriela had tagged along with Dmitri, and was admiring the size of the dock.

“There is a turian lurking in that alleyway over there,” Eriela said after looking around a few times. “I think he’s creeping on us.”

“Where?” Shepard craned her neck, and caught sight of familiar silver plates and blue markings.

“I think it is trying to say pssst, yes? Too bad it sounds like sssssssst. Best to ignore it,” Dmitri said.

“I know that guy,” Jane chuckled. “Can you wait here?”

“A tryst with another turian so soon after the other? Jane, you must go broke, buying so much anti-chafe. I am good friend, will invest in proper turian chafe cream company. Perhaps acronym will be Puccy? Must think on that.”

Eriela slapped him on the chest. “Be nice.”

“But I am always nice to you, ljubimaja moja.”

“Don’t try that on me, I won’t fall for sweet talk,” Eriela smiled.

“You guys stand here and flirt, I’ll be over there.”

 

“Hi,” Shepard said when she entered the dark alley. “Didn’t think I’d see you again before I left.”

Garrus wiggled his mandibles and smiled.

“Yeah, well, I.. I wanted to see you one last time. I wanted to say.. I wanted to say Jane, since you’re my friend and all. Erm, this all sounded a lot better in my head.” He shuffled uncomfortably.

“It sounds fine, Garrus.” Shepard smiled at his awkwardness. She would miss this. One thing among many.

“Oh. Great! Uh, hug?” he said, holding out his arms.

With one step, she was again hugging Garrus Vakarian, the one turian she never thought she’d like. He was already much taller than her, and she made a note of not getting this intimate with him when he reached his full height and fringe length. Why tempt fate?

“You promised to message me, remember,” he said, muffled in her neck. “Don’t forget me.”

“I won’t. I’ll miss you, Garrus. Very much.”

“And I’ll miss you, Jane. Don’t get yourself killed out there. I want to see you again.”

“I promise.”

Garrus reluctantly released her and she waved at him before she headed to the decontamination sluice of the Orizaba.

 

**2175 CE – July 25 th – Cipritine Southside Hospital – Physical Therapy wing – 16:15 PM**

_ <J. Shepard – Jane>:_ Hey, how’s the arm working? Still starting boot with the others next month?

_ <C. Sorio – Castor>:_ Hi. Yes I am. Arm still needing some minor adjustments, but the healing process is going smoothly. I’ve learned so much already.

_ <J. Shepard – Jane>:_ You’re supposed to get better, not study.

_ <C. Sorio – Castor>:_ Can’t help myself.

_ <J. Shepard – Jane>:_ Are you sure you’re feeling better? Don’t want anything to happen to you.

_ <C. Sorio – Castor>:_ I’m fine, Shepard. Don’t worry.

_ <J. Shepard – Jane>:_ Are you absolutely positive?

_ <C. Sorio – Castor>:_ Yes, why?

_ <J. Shepard – Jane>:_ Because I have some rather serious questions that need answering.

_ <C. Sorio – Castor>:_ Oh no, has something happened?

_ <J. Shepard – Jane>:_ Indeed it has. I have been told, by a reliable source, there exists such a thing in the world as _‘riding the horn?’_ Is this true?

_ <C. Sorio – Castor>:_ Spirits! I told him not to spread that around!

_ <J. Shepard – Jane>:_ Far be it from me to judge what you two do in your spare time, but the mental images .. I saw a one-horned salarian once, do you think the ride could be the cause?

_ <C. Sorio – Castor>:_ Please, stop.

_ <J. Shepard – Jane>:_ I mean, there truly is someone for everyone out there in this wonderful world.

_ <C. Sorio – Castor>:_ Shepard, mercy…

_ <J. Shepard – Jane>:_ And all the small buzzing human inventions…

_ <C. Sorio – Castor>:_ …………………………..

_ <J. Shepard – Jane>:_ Guess you gotta be a human to handle those.

_ <C. Sorio – Castor>:_ SHEPARD!

_ <J. Shepard – Jane>:_ All right, all right. But next time I see you, you have to pay for my silence with a beer. Or three.. or drinks.. It’s damn hot in here.

_ <C. Sorio – Castor>:_ I’ll by the spiritsdamned BAR if you only keep your mouth shut!

_ <J. Shepard – Jane>:_ Deal! Pookie..

_ <C. Sorio – Castor>:_ Despicable humans..

_ <J. Shepard – Jane>: _ Bzzzzzzzzzzzzmmmm…..

_ <C. Sorio – Castor>: _ STOP IT!!!

 

**2175 CE – August 25 th – Boot camp no. 859 – Locker rooms – 07:12 AM**

“Hey, Garrus, been a while.”

Garrus looked up from his boots to marvel at Strabo, who’d grown to his full height this summer, and he knew it.

“Hi. Gotten taller since last,” he said.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get there someday too,” Strabo replied smugly. “And guess what. Nirea and Celsus broke things off. Said long distance wasn’t their thing.”

“And that is a good thing?”

“It is for me,” Strabo said. “Nirea has grown gorgeous. That waist, those slender legs.. Wow. I must have been blind this past year.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“What’s up with you? Still thinking about Shepard?”

“No, not really.. Maybe a little. But she’s taken, and I figured I had to look for other options, not just die from stress.”

“Perhaps if you didn’t steal other people’s stress relievers, the spirits wouldn't have cursed you,” Aius' voice came from the other side.

“Give it a rest,” Mevia said. “It’s hard to be away from someone you care about.”

“You haven’t dumped Argyle yet?” Strabo called from under a towel.

“Nope, never will. I’ll kill him, but I won’t dump him.”

“That’s the spirit,” Castor said, strolling in and flashing his brand new arm. The grafts were done expertly, and only a small line of scar tissue marked the lines of the implant. The color of the arm matched his hide and plates as well.

“Wow,” Aius said. “Can you fly now?”

“Aius!”

“Can’t fly, but I can break stuff with my fingers. Wind pipe, bones, wood, even bend metal. It’s almost scary.”

The others took one step away from him.

“Hey, I’m kidding!”

“Mhm..”

“So they all say..”

Garrus changed the subject. “ Hey, did you hear that Jane got into the N7-program?”

“Jane?!” they chorused.

“Yes, Jane,” he said with a smirk. “Friends go by first names, right.”

“Listen to the jerk.”

“Suck-up.”

“Brown-noser.”

“Yeah, yeah. But she got in. Been in the desert since 15th  of July.

“That can’t be right, I got a message from her the 28th .”

“The mission was to survive with a small team and infiltrate an underground illegal radio broadcast, manned by another team. Guess it was important. What did she say?”

“Nothing,” Castor said firmly.

“How do you know so much about it?” Strabo said.

“Because I asked and asked until she fessed up.” Garrus smiled widely. “Don’t know what they’re up to in the next trial, though.

 

“You’re the ones from that station that got shut down, right?”

A lone turian female stood between the row of lockers and observed them. She had a tall proud figure, and her slim waist made the males stare shamelessly. The mauve colors on her plates was beautiful, with purple colony marks and green eyes , and like Strabo, she was fully aware of her radiance. Garrus had never seen a better looking female turian in his life, and neither had Aius, by the sound of his subvocals.

“Yeah, that’s us,” Castor said, impervious to her charms.

“I just wanted to say, on behalf of the team, we, the class of 2175, is glad to have you here. The station was a mistake, but you’re safe again here at our homeworld.”

“Mistake?” Strabo said. “I don’t think-..”

“Thank you,” Aius said, propelling himself to the front of the pack. “And we’re all so glad to be here, too.”

“Yeah,” Garrus joined in. “Very happy indeed.”

Mevia narrowed her eyes and stared at the female. The implication that the station had been a false step, irked her.

“We’re all going to work together for the future of the Hierarchy here. Oh, I almost forgot, I’m Caecilia Abrudas. Welcome to the hurt.”

 

**2175 CE – September 15 th – Boot camp no. 859 – Meal Time – 16:48 PM**

After three weeks on the station, Garrus had come to the realization that he desperately wanted to get laid. Strabo had hooked up with Nirea after one week of preening around like a prat, and they were at it wherever and whenever they had an available moment. The sighs and the moans almost drove Garrus nuts. Shepard was far far away, and still not his girlfriend, so he felt no compunction about looking around. Mevia was enjoying the occasional extranet session with Argyle in the days they were allowed access, and not available for fooling around. The one thing that truly annoyed him was that while he was making strides in becoming the next sniper champion, Aius was making strides in getting closer to Caecilia Abrudas, who seemed to enjoy his top trained physique.

“Yeah, I train almost every day. Got to be in top shape if we’re going to win,” he said to Caecilia, turning his head and showing off his long fringe.

“And what about your friends, do they train as much as you?”

“Nah, not likely. I mean, Garrus was just on the vid-call with the Executor for the second day in a row, and fatherly advice can’t make your muscles grow on their own.”

“Wait, Executor? As in Executor Vakarian? That’s Garrus’ father?” Caecilia’s eyes widened.

“Well, yeah, but-..”

“Excuse me.”

She left Aius sitting there, mouth open and came over to Garrus table with a determined look.

“Are you the son of the Executor of the Citadel?” she demanded.

“I.. am?”

“Wow, just.. wow..”

She sat down opposite him and flared her mandibles widely. Garrus suddenly felt woozy.

“There’s been some rumors among those who have family in C-sec, about how your father stood up to that horrible human a few months past?”

“Uhm, yes he did, but..”

“I was so proud to be turian when I heard that. About time someone told them what’s what. My mother was injured during the relay incident, she was part of general Desolas’ crew. They were stranded on that awful planet for months, before the last prisoner exchange. She’s still suffering the effects of that. Humans!”

“Uh, yeah. That’s so bad. ”

Somewhere in Garrus’ brain, something told him that he had human friends, and he should stand up for them. Something further down was insisting there was nothing to worry about here. A small misunderstanding. He should help put that right. He really should.

“Hey, how about you and me go for a walk later?” Caecilia smiled, and Garrus was be dazzled. He smiled back with a giddy exaltation. She chose him, not Aius.

“Sure, yeah. I’d like that.”

“I also know a shortcut to the showers after.”

Garrus smiled again. He wondered if his mandibles would ever close.

“We should totally check them out.”

She leaned over the table and hummed at him.

“And I like to shower often.”

Garrus was lost.

 

**2175 CE – September 26 th – Boot camp no. 859 – Sleeping quarters – 16:14 PM**

After a long strenuous day at the obstacle course, Garrus had found some spare time to relax and check his messages before dinner. He’d spent all his time with Caecilia, and realized it only when Strabo mentioned he got an update from Jane, and they were all talking about it except him, who’d missed their extranet time to download the images from her and Argyle. They’d given him some raised brow plates, but so what, spending time with the finest turian female in the camp did that to you. He opened the latest message from Jane, a long and funny rant about getting sand in every crevice, when he was interrupted by someone pushing his arm down.

“Garrus, what are you doing?”

Caecilia purred seductively, and he answered with a reassuring hum of his own, but didn’t put down the omni-tool. He’d postponed this for days now.

“I’m just writing some friends.”

“And we’re not friends?” she winked.

“Of course we are, and more than that, but we see each other every day. I haven’t spoken to these friends in weeks.”

“So you’re tired of me?” Her voice was still playful, with only a hint of accusation.

Garrus put down the tool and pulled her close.

“Never. You’re my beautiful girlfriend, I’ll never tire of you.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear. How about we head to the gym and spar?”

“You know I always win.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

He chuckled. She was right, the aftermath was just as fun as the fight.

“Whatever you want, Caecilia.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear," she purred back.

 

**2175 CE – September 27 th – Boot camp no. 859 – Common Rooms – 17:18 PM**

Garrus enjoyed sitting with Caecilia in his lap, and he really enjoyed watching Aius’ jealous stare. They were all gathered around a big table, having a small snack before bedtime. Strabo and Nirea was the other pair whom was demonstrably showing off their affections, and Garrus was ecstatic to be part of that team. Being allowed to nip at a female’s neck at any time he pleased was an unexpected bonus. Aius rolled his eyes and checked his omni-tool instead. It was one of their extranet days.

“Hey, I got a message from Shepard! She made it through the first survival trial,” he announced happily. “One down, two to go for the N1! She’s sent some snow holos. Ugh. ”

“Shepard? Not _that_ Shepard?” Caecilia whispered in Garrus’ neck.

“Uh, yeah. Tell you about it later,” he whispered back.

Castor had gone completely silent, only swallowing and blinking while staring at his omni-tool.

“What’s the matter with you?" Aius asked and peeked over his shoulder. “What did she se-..! Spirits, my eyes! Rip them out! ”

“What? What?” Mevia demanded.

“Shepard has sent Castor porn! 20 naked male human butts! And many of them are _hairy_! I never knew humans could grow hair out of their.. their cracks?”

“Let me see,” Nirea laughed. “ That’s not porn, that’s the other N1-trainees.”

“If they’re just diving from a cliff into the lake below, that’s apparently a tradition after every increment of the survival-course,” Strabo added. “Looks more like a river to me.”

_“Hairy!”_ Aius persisted.

“Did she send any female ones?” Strabo asked.

They stared at him.

“Hey, just asking..”

“You too, eh, Strabo,” Aius laughed.

“That’s just disgusting,” Caecilia hissed. “Males or females, you shouldn’t care so much about humans.” She climbed from Garrus’ lap and stood up. “I’m going out, and you should delete that!”

Castor clutched his omni-tool to his chest. “I’ll delete whatever I want, thank you very much,” he said sternly.

Caecilia stomped out, and Garrus after her. He shrugged apologetically before he stepped out of the door.

“Well, that was awkward,” Nirea said. “Wonder what got into her.”

“Garrus, and quite often.” Aius sighed. “Wish it was me.”

“Don’t. That one is going to be trouble,” Mevia said quietly. “I’ve asked around. Her mother is Helia Abrudas, former lieutenant of the Belli Finem. You know, the one Shepard’s mother blew out of orbit? She’s rumored to be connected to the Facinus group.”

“The separatist- group?”

“They’re not a separatist anymore,” Castor said, struggling to keep the anger out of his subvocals. “ I’m from Taetrus. Our extremist group was infiltrated by other extremists. It’s more _Apien Crest for turians_ now.”

The remains of Four fell silent. Conatix had done their best to stop racist humans from attacking them on Gagarin, but what now? They were home, Caecilia undoubtedly had many who thought like her, and Garrus had fallen head over spurs for her.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” Strabo said. “And if he doesn’t snap of it, I guess we can always kick his ass.”

 

**2175 CE – October 15 th – Boot camp no. 859 – Locker Room – 19:12 PM**

While Caecilia finished showering, Garrus hurriedly checked his omni-tool. There was no new messages from Shepa..Jane, he corrected himself, but three from from Argyle. Apparently, he was planning some sort of birthday surprise for Mevia, and asked everyone for advice on the perfect gift. Nirea’s advice had been a cyanide pill for himself in case he really pissed her off one day. Garrus chuckled.

“Who are you sending messages to out here, in secret ?” Caecilia asked. She’d snuck up on him. “You’re almost more on that damn omni-tool than you are with me.

Garrus knew that to be an exaggeration , but he humored her all the same and closed the screen. He could write Shepard, Argyle and his mother later, They wouldn't mind, surely. In any case, Shepard was still out in the snow, according to the holo Strabo showed him. Damn, that reminded him he had more downloads to do, and he hadn’t sent her any holos at all. At least Aius and the others did, she probably wouldn’t miss any from him. And he had Caecilia. She cared so much about him, she wanted to spend all her time with him. How could he say no?

“Just my friends, and my mother.”

“What friends? Not that human from Gagarin? Mevia talks about him all the time, Argill, is it? It’s creepy, almost as if she’s in love with him.”

“Uhm.” Garrus hesitated, not sure how to broach the subject of interspecies hook-ups, but Caecilia purred at him again and stroked his fringe.

“Thank the spirits you’re not thinking that way. A real turian, like your father.”

He had a slight feel of ick, being mentioned in the same line as his dad while being preened, but Caecilia’s green eyes swallowed him whole.

“Yes, beautiful, ” he said.

She smiled wider and touched his waist.

 

**2175 CE – November 05 th – Boot camp no. 859 – Common Rooms – 19:20 PM**

“I can’t wait to see if Shepard manage to pass the second trial,” Aius said while almost tripping over his own feet. “Look at those mountains. And they’re running around with planks on their feet. She said some humans do that for fun, like a sport. Bunch of weirdos.”

“Hey, hold the screen steady!” Mevia said.

“It’s not the screen, it’s Shepard’s head cam. She’s going downhill on those planks.” Aius said.

“I think my plates are shrinking just by watching,” Castor huffed.

“Wait, this is the best part.”

The image shifted, and the camera had been placed on a tripod, and Shepard walked into the frame with a bucket of how water, then tossed it up in the air. The water froze before it hit the ground, steam blowing away from the image frame.

“Wow,” Nirea breathed. “Humans are crazy. They live in those environments? Spirits.”

“I bet they know how to keep warm,” Aius hummed. “I bet the quarians do too. All those cold flotilla ships? It would be a kindness to share some of my hotness with them when we get back to the Citadel, right?”

The members of Four rolled their eyes and chuckled, but one turian was not amused.

“Really? Aliens? Aren't your own kind not good enough for you?”

Aius looked crestfallen. He wasn't used to being shamed for his interest in every alien female floating past him. Gently mocked and poked fun at, yes, but never shamed.

“What? No, it's nothing to do with that,” he said. “Just, I like to try new th.. I like to meet new people.”

“And you can't meet new turian females?” Caecilia asked sweetly. “No need to stray from your own.”

Aius flared his fringe and stared at the female.

“Whatever kind of people you're alluding to, they're not _my_ people,” he growled. “I want friends and lovers of all species.”

“I see,” Caecilia said. “Even the pyjaks. You're one aberrant turian.”

“I'm what now?” Aius got up and thrummed at her. “I won't hear this shit from the likes of you, you sectarian bitch!”

Caecilia got up and glared at him. “What did you call me!?”

“You heard me, vorcha breath!”

“Hey hey, take this down a couple of notches,” Strabo said, pulling Aius back. “Don't want the instructor stopping by.”

At that moment, Garrus returned from the bathroom.

“What did I miss? Has Shepard passed?”

Nirea shot him a curios look. “No, _Shepard’s_ second trial isn’t over. What happened to Jane?”

“I, uh,” Garrus said, eyes flicking over at Caecilia.

“Great. The primarchessa decides how you speak now?” Aius snarled. “I’m not sitting with racists.”

He gathered his belongings and left.

“Yeah, I think I'm leaving too,” Mevia said and went after Aius.

“Yeah, so..” Nirea tried to salvage the situation. “We had a small disagreement, but-..”

“Aius couldn't stand the truth,” Caecilia said. “Aliens are dangerous, we shouldn't get too close. Asari are okay, I guess, but the rest of them? Too violent or too cunning, we can't trust them.”

“Uh, hehe, right. Perhaps change the subject?” Garrus chuckled nervously. “Not everyone likes talking politics at bed time.”

“You agree with this, Garrus?” Strabo gave him an incredulous stare.

“Well, she makes some good points,” Garrus said as Caecilia stroked his thigh.

“Not really.” Castor's reply was as dry as Garrus' throat.

“Look, can't we just have a snack and relax? I'm sure Aius will calm down and everything's all right by tomorrow,” Garrus said.

“Not bloody likely,” Strabo muttered under his breath.

The rest of the night was passed mostly in silence.

 

**2175 CE – November 30 th – Boot camp no. 859 – Study Hall – 14:36 PM**

For the past few months, Garrus had strutted around in a haze of lust and infatuation. The most beautiful female in the camp wanted to be with him, and they fucked like they were possessed whenever they could get away from the training. In the showers, in the gym, in the sleeping area whenever they found themselves alone. His initial fumbling had been replaced with expertise through extensive repetition, and he now knew precisely how to please his girlfriend. Things just didn’t go smooth outside their carnal activities. Caecilia was skeptical about his friends in the old Four, and thought their ‘appeasement’ attitude towards other aliens were bad. Whenever he brought this up and tried to say that they also had some good points, she distracted him with purring and played with his waist, and somehow he always ended up agreeing that she was the only one with any points at all, not Four.

He was aware that he hadn’t replied as often to Shepard and Argyle’s messages as he should have, and the last conversation with his mother had been rather odd. The look on her face when he mentioned Caecilia’s last name had been confusion and surprise, but she’d said nothing. What was wrong with everybody? Couldn’t they see that she was really into him? That she wanted him? And he wanted her, even if that made less time for old friends. He typed a short message for Shepard, reminding her that he was still the best shot on camp, congratulated her with finishing the second survival trial early and was about to write a message for Argyle when he heard footsteps approaching. It wasn’t Four, they were kind of annoyed with him lately, and sure enough, Caecilia appeared. She’d brought a friend.

“Hi Garrus, I wanted you to meet my cousin, Potil. I thought we might sit with his troop at meal time today. I can’t stand how your _friend_ Aius glares at me.”

“Uh, yeah, sure, if you like,” Garrus said.

“Thank you, I knew you would see it my way.”

“Yeah, your my girl, right?”

“Hi,” Potil hummed. “Better take good care of my little cousin. Those human lovers in your old team is bad news.”

“Human lovers?”

Garrus blinked several times, but Caecilia patted Potil on the arm.

“I’m sure they can be brought to reason, well, almost all. Aius is just a pervert. He should be cleansed from the camp.”

“Cleansed?” Garrus said, shocked.

“Oh, relax, I only meant, those who aren’t completely sure of where their loyalties lie, should not serve in the military. It’s bad for morale.”

“I guess some people see it that way,” Garrus said carefully. “But Aius is as loyal as they come. Dating any alien is just like dating an asari.” He saw the look on Caecilia’s face. “Or rather, _he_ thinks it is.”

“Really? Well, time will tell,” she said, then smiled widely. “But enough of that. Come, I want to introduce you to some other friends of ours.”

“Sure,” Garrus said, heart sinking. He adored Caecilia, but he’d really been looking forward to discussing Shepard’s progress with the rest of Four.

 

**2175 CE – December 27 th – Boot camp no. 859 – Meal Time – 17:30 PM**

Not even Garrus had failed to notice the growing rift between himself and his former team. They were more quiet around him and Caecilia, and sparingly talked about Argyle or Shepard when they were near. If only Caecilia would be a little less vocal about her opinions about humans, things would probably be a lot better, Garrus knew. It was not because of Shepard, oh no, it was because Mevia had overheard her a couple of times, when she talked to him alone, and taken extreme offense. Garrus had promised Strabo to talk to Caecilia about that, but when he tried, she purred at him, he lost track of his plans and thought only of his shifting plates. Like now. He purred back in her neck.

“Cut it the fuck out. No need to preen in front of that bigot,” Mevia said, disdain dripping off every word.

“Stop it, Mevia. We’re all friends here.”

“Are we?” Mevia wiggled her mandibles in disbelief. “I thought you had a bunch of new friends, with a new and improved philosophy.”

“It’s not a new way of thinking, it’s the old way, and we should take heed of it,” Caecilia said.

Mevia had reached her limit for the day.

“I don’t eat with racist,” she thrummed, grabbing her plate and utensils and left without another word.

“The air around here is somewhat.. stale,” Aius said. “I think I’ll follow my friend.” Then he too was gone.

“Well, if that’s how it’s going to be, I’ll sit with my troop.” Caecilia strolled away, but when he moved to follow her, Strabo called him back.

“Garrus, wait. We need to talk.”

“About what? You saw just now how rude Aius and Mevia was,” Garrus said defensively.

“Yes, and Caecilia has given them cause for that for months now,” Nirea said and gave a resigned smile. “You said you were going to talk to her.”

Garrus sat down with a huff.

“Look, I know she dislikes aliens, but Shepard did too. And she changed. I can help Caecilia change, I know it.”

“Shepard changed on her own accord, despite being abused by a turian for months. Do you think, if put in similar circumstances, Caecilia would do the same?” Strabo took a drink from his mug.

“I can change her,” Garrus said weakly. “I can make her see things differently.”

“Right,” Nirea said. “That always works out so well. And how much of that _‘helping’_ has been done with your dick? I would venture all of it. Garrus, we know she’s beautiful, but she’s… a little narrow minded. Know that I’m being generous here. While she and Shepard both had family who fought in the relay incident, Shepard was not unfair to all of us, just you in the beginning. Brusque and scary, yes, but never unfair.”

Garrus stared down on his plate, and Nirea continued.

“Celsus told me about the first lesson they had with her, how she beat the crap out of an uppity Victus _and_ a racist human. Would Caecilia have done that?”

“Maybe not,” Garrus admitted after a long pause. “But she could learn to accept humans as friends.”

“Did that Erikson guy who beat you up over and over ever learn to like you? Or any of us.” Strabo shook his head.

“No, but it could happen,” Garrus insisted.

“It _could_ , but it _won’t,_ ” Strabo said. “And certainly not by you dropping small hints on how wonderful humans are. She’ll hate them even more for having corrupted you.”

“I’m not corrupted.”

“Really? Jane this and Jane that?” Nirea smiled. “Though lately, she seems to have been cleansed from your mind. It’s merely Shepard now. ”

“Cleansed?” Garrus said, louder than he intended. Nirea had hit just a little to close to home for comfort. “Just wait a minute. Shepard is Shepard, and not a turian,” he said hotly. “Maybe she’s not suitable as a public acquaintance, considering her background, and mine. Maybe Caecilia has a point. I mean, we could always be friends in secret.”

Strabo’s and Nirea’s mandibles slackened as they stared at him for a long time. With a small click, Nirea finally closed them and jerked up from her seat.

“That’s Caecilia and your cock talking,” she snapped, “and I’m not in the mood to have a conversation with either of those. Bye!”

Garrus jumped to his feet.

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that,” Garrus said as Strabo rose to his full height, towering over him.

“Oh, I think we know what you meant, _Vakarian_. Some friend you are. One piece of ass, and you’re abandoning all of us if we’re not seen as good enough. See you later, Garrus, _i_ _f_ your mistress gives you leave.”

Strabo put his arm around Nirea’s waist and they turned their back on him. Garrus saw them leave with a horrible empty feeling in his chest. Right now, his joy of having a girlfriend was drowned out by a steady exodus of friends. Mevia and Aius hadn't really spoken to him in weeks, he'd put off answering messages from Shepard and Argyle, Castor was giving him mildly disappointed looks and now, Nirea and Strabo. Add to that, Caecilia was constantly saying things his mother would be ashamed of hearing. But she was kind to him, wasn't she? She _could_ learn to get along with other species, like Shepard had. She just needed some time and help, even if Garrus felt as if the ice under him was breaking, like in one of Shepard’s holos. Aius, Mevia, Strabo and Nirea, gone. Only Castor was left at the table, and he shook his head at Garrus and continued his meal, the faint bionic squeak of his arm almost drowned in the din of the hall. Garrus sunk down and pushed the plate away. He was no longer hungry.

 

**2176 CE – January 10 th – Boot camp no. 859 – Shooting Range – 08:03 AM**

“Did you guys see the patch in the new holo? She made it! N1!” Strabo grinned and pressed his forehead to Nirea. “I knew she would.”

“Yeah, and do you guys see how snug those Alliance training suits are?” Aius said, leering at the screen. “Just makes you wanna peel them off so the humans can breathe.”

“Stop it you,” Mevia laughed and smacked him on the cowl. “That’s the only thing you think about.”

“Maybe,” Aius admitted. “I also think about how those quarians look under their suits.”

“Incorrigible, you are.”

“Hey that’s just how I r-.. Quiet, here _they_ come.”

Garrus and Caecilia walked in, hand in hand, and old Four went silent.

“Hello,” Garrus said neutrally.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

“Hello.”

“Hey guys.”

They stared awkwardly at each other for some time, then Strabo cleared his throat.

“Did you see the latest news on our friend?”

Garrus visibly hunched. “Uuuh, no, I meant to, but I-..”

“He had better things to do,” Caecilia interjected. “Spending time with his own people, that is.”

“Yes, we can see that,” Mevia said. “Good luck on your new team, Garrus.” She picked up her rifle and entered a booth.

“Hope she’s worth it,” Aius added. “Just because _you_ can shoot straight, doesn’t mean your new troop will win today. Takes a team effort.”

“I know that,” Garrus hissed.

“Who’s your replacement? Can’t be much to choose from, we got the best one.” Caecilia looked smug.

“She’s a little late, but she looks promising. Nyreen Kandros,” Castor said.

“Nobody I’ve heard of.”

“Not yet, but you will. Four has a good track record of turning out good recruits. Well, with one exception.” Strabo smiled at Garrus, whom shrunk even further.

“You’re _not_ Four any longer! That time is over,” Caecilia said.

“That’s what you think,” Aius growled. “We’ll always be Four! With one exception.”

“Caecilia, let’s just go, this serves no purpose,” Garrus said, pulling her arm.

“We’ll see this afternoon, how much ‘Four,’” Cecilia made quotation marks in the air, “can do without their sniper.”

She turned around on her heel and marched away, Garrus tagging behind her.

“What an idiot,” Aius said.

“I believe the word you’re looking for is seam-struck,” Mevia huffed. “A very bad case of it.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll come around, sooner or later,” Castor said. “Although it is getting kind of late already.”

“I wish Shepard was here,” Strabo said. “She’d know what to do.”

 

**2176 CE – January 10 th – Boot camp no. 859 – Sleeping Quarters – 11:45 PM**

For the first time in a long time, Garrus had lost a sim-fight against another team, and he laid awake thinking about it. The fact that it was his old team which had beaten him so soundly only increased the level of despair he felt over losing. Everybody lost once in a while, but besides Caecilia, he had no connection with his new teammates, and it showed on the field and in the sim. He felt isolated and alone, and the only thing that cheered him up was sex and his girlfriend, but instead of spending all their time alone, they were spending it more and more with her circle of friends. Some of them were nice, but some of the things they said.. Garrus pulled the sheet over his head.

It wasn’t as if some of it didn’t have a morsel of truth in there somewhere, not all aliens could be trusted. Like the batarians, for instance. He’d tried to make Four see that, and help Caecilia see that some aliens were helpful and trustworthy, even some of those were named Shepard. But for all his sated youthful desires, Garrus was keenly aware of the ever increasing distance between him and the rest of Four after the split. He resented that. It was probably Aius' doing. He was only jealous because he'd failed with Caecilia, well, too bad. They should be happy for him, not sulk and ruin the mood whenever his girlfriend and he showed up. The problem was that Caecilia wasn’t helping. Whenever he thought he could get some agreement between them, she said something that angered one of his old friends. He wished he could ask Shepard about this, but asking someone you used to be in love with about your new love was just wrong. He really shouldn’t depend on her so much. Caecilia sad that old lovers were the past, and while he’d never actually slept with Shepard, she.. He shouldn’t talk to her so much. That was the gist of it. Another wave of regret hit him, and the feeling of being lost washed through his chest. That was just the stupid battle-bond, Garrus surmised and rolled around on the bunk. It would pass. _‘But if_ _she’d_ _been on the field with you today, would you have lost?’_ a treacherous voice said in his head. He forced himself to stop thinking about it. Shepard was the past. Caecilia Abrudas was the future.

 

**2176 CE – April 13 th – Boot camp no. 859 – Mess Hall – 07:12 AM**

“Garrus, you really look dreadful,” Castor said and looked his friend up and down. “You’ve lost weight. Are you not sleeping?”

“Some trouble with that,” Garrus admitted out of earshot of Caecilia. “I’m not used to losing this bad.” He smeared the paste around on his plate. “Things haven’t turned out the way I thought it would.”

“Hey, come on. We’re soon out of here. A few more months, and we’re shipping out. In the meantime, eat your food. Won’t attain your full height without it,” Castor smiled.

“Don’t remind me. Not only is Strabo some sort of female magnet, he’s also in the running for 2176 troop leader of the year. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to switch teams after all.” Garrus drooped his fringe.

Castor glanced around to make sure no one was listening, then leaned towards Garrus.

“Hey, I know you’ve been conflicted, but it’s not too late. We can-..”

“Have you heard the news?” Caecilia was back. “Those salarians have blocked the proposal for construction of five more dreadnoughts made by councilor Sparatus. Devious bastards. Those damn bug-eyes should be glad we bother to protect them at all. After the mess they landed the galaxy in with the krogan? They should have wiped each other out.”

Garrus heard the sharp intake of breath from Castor, and how his talons curled and scraped over the table as he stood up.

“What? Got a problem?” Caecilia said.

She’d dropped all pretense of liking his friends after Garrus had joined her troop, and she’d never respected the gentle Castor much. The turian standing opposite was not that turian any longer. Castor the meek and mild was furious.

“What do you know about salarians?! Nothing! The only thing you see is yourself, and your pain. Nobody else is worthy of consideration! Newsreel, female, you and your family is not the only ones suffering in this galaxy. Fuck you and your speciest ways.”

“Castor, please, she didn’t mean it like that,” Garrus said wearily.

“Don’t tell me what I do and do not mean, Garrus Vakarian,” Caecilia snapped.

Castor pierced him with his shining yellow eyes.

“And fuck your little idiot sidekick too,” he barked, pointing at Garrus. “I’m fucking ashamed I ever called you a friend. You two should just up and join Facinus, perhaps they are pure enough for you!”

Castor hurled his plate of meat strips against the wall with his bionic arm, bending the metal plate and splattering some nearby students with the shredded meat.

“Fuck you!” he shouted one last time before he ran out.

Over by another table, Aius, Mevia, Strabo and Nirea got up and hurried after him.

“Let them go,” Caecilia scoffed. I always suspected the lot of them were alien-sympathizers. Now none of them will influence you any longer. You’re all mine,” she purred at him.

Instead of feeling his plates stir, Garrus stared at her, sensing an abyss opening under him. All this time he’d been trying to change her, she’d done the same to _him_.

“Facinus has some sound ideas,” Caecilia said.

Another turian appeared at their table with impeccable timing.

“Is this seat available?” he said and sat down. “Caecilia, I saw your fight with that Sorio-guy. Some of us other medics think he’s a bit unnatural, caring for aliens so much.”

“I know, right? Only an aberrant turian would care about those subversive egg-layers. Good thing there’s nobody like that around this table,” Caecilia said and smiled at Garrus.

For all his admiring gazes on her, Garrus’ instinct, previously dulled by lust, told him that he was seeing Caecilia for the first time. Beautiful, strong, willful, and utterly xenophobic and dangerous. And all his friends were gone, driven away by his own idiocy. The ground disappeared, and Garrus felt like he was falling, hurling through space like Castor’s plate, with no jump pack and no rescue in sight. Lost again, but nobody wanted to find him anymore.

 

**2176 CE – June 16 th – Boot camp no. 859 – Mess Hall – 07:12 AM**

From his hiding spot in the overhang, Garrus could see the latest Facinus recruitment meeting. Potil’s troop had given up any pretense they had on becoming the best team in boot, but had started a more intensive recruitment drive, and Garrus, no longer blinded by his infatuation with Caecilia, saw the pattern clear as day. The inner circle of Caecilia’s friends targeted the offspring of high tier turians, testing them and trying to bring them into the fold. He saw a nephew of Sparatus, Quentius, the son of general Alrek Fedorian, Alram, even a second cousin of Emerus Victus, and many others. He himself had been targeted for being Galenus’ son, the human hating Executor of the Citadel. Quite the prize, as Potil had called him when he thought himself unheard. Caecilia had replied that she liked him, but Garrus no longer thought of that as a consolation. She liked him because she believed he held to the same principles as her, and because he was fun in the bedroom. The very thought made Garrus sick.

He’d tried to approach his old friends again, but they mistrusted him. Not that he could blame them. His new troop consisted of nothing but Facinus supporters, and he’d given Four plenty of reasons to believe that he was one of them. After taking holos of the assembled turians, Garrus climbed back down and hurried back to med-bay. Ever since the incident with Castor, he’d tried to avoid Caecilia outside training, but he was running out of options. His last trick was telling her he thought he had symptoms of scale itch, and she’d left him alone with a frightened expression, running to the nurse to get herself tested. That wouldn't last forever, but he needed to just get past the last exams. When he had passed and been assigned a ship, he’d be free of Facinus, and her. It was a little like She-.. Jane and her drive to survive Gagarin to get into N7.

_Jane.._

Garrus turned on the omni-tool, checking the timer. The extranet was back on. Should he? His talons wavered over the mail-icon. A minute passed, then he pressed it. Argyle's messages blinked in the inbox, 11 unread. A spasm of guilt ripped through him. He'd been a bad friend. Behind Jane’s name the numbers read 18. He hadn't even bothered to browse them, never mind send a reply. And they kept sending him messages, thinking that he'd been busy with school, instead of being busy getting out of his plates and listening to evil advice. Garrus opened the oldest message from Jane. She joked that he'd become so busy lately, he was the one forgetting her. Another wave of shame washed over him. What made it even worse was that Shep-.. Jane didn’t know any of what had happened here, she joked like usual and had attached holos of her training and a new N1 patch, and told him not to worry, she completely understood he was occupied with boot, and could reply whenever he had the time.

Garrus felt awful, but read a few more messages. The familiar feeling of belonging with someone seeped into him while he perused the messages, and this feeling increased with every word. The N7-program sounded exhausting and interesting, and he couldn't help smiling back at the big grinning face of Jane holding up her N2 patch. She made some off-hand comments concerning about his lack of reply, and he squirmed inside. What would she think of him when she learned the truth? He looked at some holos from her language classes. Apparently they ran simultaneously with the rest of the N-classes, to drill languages into the trainees’ heads for months on end. Jane took Palaveni standard and Khar'sanos standard, and had sent him a dirty poem written in his own language. He muffled his laughter with a pillow. More holos, the captions read _‘Jane freefalling in a jumpsuit,’_ _‘Jane_ _ye_ _lled at by the instructor for taking holos when freefalling in a jumpsuit,’_ and _‘_ _Jane putting a bug in the instructor's coffee.’_ Spirits, he'd missed this. All the distractions and the fighting had kept him from finding comfort in his battle-bonded friend. He studied every holo, there was Jane doing first aid on a human during a front line exercise, but looking more like she was trying to strangle him with the bandage, Jane pointing at a datapad illustrating a krogan’s quad with a horrified expression, Jane fighting a huge human in Zero gravity, Jane almost crashing a large shuttle-craft making a sharp turn, a short vid of Jane barely avoiding crashing into the wall with a jet pack and many others, most notably Jane doing several proud poses with the N1, N2, and N3 patch on her arm. Garrus hummed to himself. How could he have forgotten how at home he felt with her. When he opened the last message, he noted it was made a little over a month ago. How strange. No more messages for that long? A cold sense of dread snaked up his cowl. The message was short and to the point.

_< Hi Garrus. Just chatted with Castor, and I'm beginning to understand your long stretch of silence. Don't worry about it, I understand. People grow apart. I'm sure Castor is exaggerating, he can be a bit overprotective of Ravarn. Facinus can’t be worse than Cerberus back on earth. Hope things work out for you, and that she makes you happy. Your friend, Jane.>_

 The emotional free fall he'd experienced these last few weeks came to a sudden stop. Garrus hit rock bottom with a resounding thud. Jane thought he was joining some xenophobic cult and had renounced her as a friend. That last part was almost true! They were already hiding from their parents that they were friends, and he'd actually considered hiding it from everyone else too! Like it was something to be ashamed of, knowing a human. Mevia loved one, for spirits sake. His talons hovered over the reply icon. Could he? Should he? Fuck it, he needed to. He started typing a new message.

_< Shepard, I.. >_

He blinked, pressed backspace several times and started again.

_< Jane, I've been so stupid. I'm so sorry for my long absence, I'll explain everything, just tell me we're still friends? Please?>_

A shaking talon pressed send. It was probably too late to expect a reply, and Garrus laid back in his bunk, heart thumping hard in his chest. Was he too late? Had he really wasted so many friendships for nothing? He twisted and turned for hours, but no reply came, and sleep eventually claimed him.

 

**2176 CE – June 17 th – Boot camp no. 859 – Sleeping quarters – 06:01 AM**

There was no reply in the morning either, and Garrus sneaked out of med-bay and headed over to his usual sleeping quarters. He still shared a bunk area with Four, even if they no longer talked to him, but he had to know.

“Nirea? Nirea, are you awake?”

He shook the other turian gently.

“Garrus? What the fuck? Aren’t you in bed with some sex disease? Go away!” She rolled away from him.

“No, that was a lie. Look, I have to know, have you heard from Jane lately?”

“Jane?” came Aius drowsy voice from the next bunk. “How the worm turns. What, your little mistress planning to assassinate her, and you want to get close to Shepard to help out ?”

“Just shut up and tell me!” Garrus said desperately.

“Can’t do both,” Aius said and held up his middle talon at Garrus. He’d learned that from Argyle.

“Shepard is deep in N-6 curriculum,” Castor hissed from the upper bunk. “It’s radio silence for a month, and then the N-7 tryout. No more funny holos. It’s a real mission with the fleet, and you’d know this if you actually cared. Now fuck off. Facinus can’t get her while she’s in the Alliance.”

“I’m not Facinus,” Garrus bit back. “Listen, I know I’ve been an ass this entire year, but I’m not one of them.”

“Hah!” Mevia opened one eye and peered at him. “The mistress got tired of you, and you want to crawl back to your unworthy former friends? Go tell your lies to someone else. You had an entire year to change your mind.”

“I mean it!” Garrus said. “On my mother’s spirit.”

A low hush went through Four.

“That’s a big oath,” Strabo said. He’d risen from his bunk to join the conversation. “Bigger than you might think.”

“I’m not lying. I’ve seen what they’re doing, and I want no part of it. I.. I miss you guys.” Garrus looked down.

“It’s not that easy for us either, you coming back like this,” Strabo said finally. “It’s like we don’t even know you any more.”

“I know,” Garrus pleaded. “But I’ll prove it. I’ll break it off with Caecilia. Just tell me I can come back to Four before the final war games? The female might try to make me fail when she finds out I’m not like her and her cohorts. I’ll be passed over for citizenship. Please?”

Strabo looked around to the rest of Four. After some contemplation, Castor nodded. Nirea gave him a small smile and hummed her consent. Mevia gave him a long hard stare.

“You were always an idiot, but you’re our idiot,” she said after a longer pause.

“Thank you!”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you left us in the lurch, moron.”

“I won’t.”

“Aius?” Strabo asked.

“I don’t think so,” Aius said. “ I don’t trust him.”

“Aius, please,” Garrus said before Strabo could reply. “I know I’ve let everybody down. I have no excuse, but I’m not like them. You know I don’t hate humans.”

Aius stared at him. “She called me all those things, said all those things about our friends, and you did nothing. Why would I need a friend like that?”

“I know! But I.. I was so overwhelmed that she’d pick me over you, you know. I was the one. I’ve never had that with anybody before.” His mandibles twitched, but Garrus looked Aius straight in the eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

The other turian plucked at his keel bone, deliberating his response. At last, Aius decided.

“Hmmm… All right then. But I better not see you with that female again. No third chances.”

Garrus exhaled loudly.

“You won’t!”

“Well, I guess it’s back to the bad old days,” Mevia sighed. “Three weeks before the war games.”

“We can do it,” Strabo said confidently. “And we’re keeping Kandros. She’s quite the fighter.”

“Never mind that, when’s Jane due to be back online?” Garrus said.

“Middle July, start of August,” Castor said, “Now get back to bed. I have at least 15 minutes more sleep in me.”

“Fine.”

Garrus threw himself down on his bunk. Almost two months until he’d know. He’d be in the military by then. Dammit. It was too long. Three minutes was too long. He opened the omni-tool again and reread the messages. This whole year had been a disaster so far. Hopefully there was no more to come.

 

**2176 CE – August 18 th – THV Ravuna Pride – Mess Room – 07:05 AM**

Garrus had just got off his night shift in the battery, and was joined by Strabo, fresh from training.

“No reply yet?” Strabo asked, while Garrus flicked through his messages.

“None. Not a trace.” Garrus put his fringe on the table. “I blew it.”

“Don’t be like that.” Strabo sat down with his nutri-paste still in the packet. “None of us have received a reply. And we all said we’d help after the war games.”

“I know.. Lucky Captain Victus wanted the whole team. Imagine if I were still with Caecilia.” Garrus shuddered.

“Nothing from Chellick?”

“Wait, let me check. He should know. Ah, it went into the spam-folder. He says.. he says nothing’s been heard of since they left in June. They should have been back by now. Not even Jane’s friend Dmitri has heard anything.”

Garrus stared at Strabo.

“She’s gone. She might be _dead!_ And she believed.. she thought.. Spirits, no..”

“Garrus, calm down. The Alliance has made no announcement, the mission might be running late.”

“As if the Alliance would proclaim it to the world if they lost admiral Shepard's daughter somewhere in space!” Garrus snapped. “They’d wait and said she died in a training accident.”

“We haven’t heard that either.”

“We might never now,” Garrus said, deflating his fringe. “The Alliance and the Hierarchy aren’t exactly friendly. She might be killed in action, and they’d keep it a secret.”

“Garrus, stop it!”

“I’m sorry Strabo, but I’d hoped.. I wanted to make amends. Now I might never have the chance. My friend has.. disappeared.”

“Our friend,” Strabo said. “And all’s not lost yet. She might still come back.”

He really wanted to comfort Garrus as the question gnawed on his mind too, like it did the rest of Four, but there was no one else to ask.

_Where was Shepard?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one LONG chapter, make no mistake, and waaayy to early, really, but I really wanted to get past Garrus' last year in boot, and this is the result.  
> I think everyone knows someone like Caecilia, (male or female)someone that won't let their boy/girlfriends have other friends, free time or their own opinions. Very manipulative and shrewd. I know a few like that, and since some age old advice says write what you know, well.. That's Caecilia. :)  
> As for the no more cliffhangers thing.. I've been pretty good, haven't I? I mean, you practically got two chapters in one this time.  
> *cackle*  
> As usual, if you see any mistakes, let me know. XD


	49. Losing yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard is on her last mission before becoming an N7, but when the rescue mission goes awry, who's going to rescue the rescuers?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we go into dark themes, and I suppose you've all noticed I've updated with new trigger warnings. There is a reason for that. Read at your own peril.

**_One month earlier_ **

**2176 CE – July 18 th – SSV Endeavor – Conference Room – 06:00 AM**

The Captain of the Endeavor was a small man, barely 1.70 tall, but he carried himself with the confidence of a man who’d fought his way up the ranks. Right now he was giving the last standing recruits a scrutinizing stare, as if to dare them to fail him. There were 5 of them left of 24 after a whole year of drills and exams, and Shepard was determined to earn that last patch. She stood up a little straighter.

“Listen up. Those of you who remain, are the elite of the N-applicants, but all of you are still untested. We’ve received a request for aid from a small archaeological dig-site. Apparently, the residing doctor T'Soni are having trouble with some Blue Suns, they’ve been probing the defenses of her camp for some time. Right now they’re under siege, and our mission is to enter the perimeter, evacuate the doctor and her research, and eliminate as many Suns as we possibly can. The survival of the researchers take precedent, so no shooting until you’ve tagged your opponent as a hostile, understood?”

“”Yes, sir.”

“We expect a fight, but they’re only a small contingent of a normal Sun attack, so this is the perfect opportunity to test you. Two recruits to a usual team of five. Shepard, you’re the odd one out, you’ll be on the extraction team for the doctor.

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s all. Dismissed.”

The captain left the conference room first, and while the rest of the soldiers left, Shepard was held back by her new team leader.

“Lucky you, Shepard. Not every day I have to have a rookie on my team.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll do my best to not get in the way.”

“At ease, soldier. I’m lieutenant Adam Coats, these are my men, Barnes, Zhu and Steiner. Williamson is in med-bay with the flu, which is why I have a spare spot on my team. Don’t think you’ll inherit this spot just because of your family.”

“I understand, sir. No favors. I’ll earn my patch on my own merit.”

“Good. Now go get kitted for the mission. We’ll arrive in two days, and every little piece of equipment better fit, or I’ll tan your hide.”

“Yes, sir!”

After she left, corporal Steiner shrugged.

“Good test results. Biotic. Could be an asset. Could be disastrous.”

Coats smiled. “What, still sour you didn’t get past the N4 exam?”

“Hey, they deliberately miscalibrated the shuttles, anybody could have made that mistake.”

“You mean the huge fireball that used to be the instructor’s favorite Kodiak?” Zhu nudged her buddy.

“Yes, that,” Steiner said sourly.

“Enough,” Coats said. “We’ll take Shepard's measure in the field, no need for guesswork. Team dismissed.”

 

**2176 CE – July 20 th – SSV Endeavor – Armory – 05:00 AM**

“All right, Team Sierra, listen up. We’re going in undercover. Our surface reading came back with more Sun-ships than preliminary surveillance reports indicated, and we’re trying a different approach. By approaching the surface under an Eclipse banner, we might get close to the target without sustaining too much fire. We know there’s a tentative truce among the warbands, but as soon as we don’t respond with the right codes, those suspicions bastards are going to hit us with every tool in their arsenal. We better be close enough for a ground assault by then.”

“By the Goddess, I hate yellow,” Barnes growled.

“The Goddess again? One night at Chora’s Den with that stripper, and you’re suddenly the poster child for conversion?” Zhu said.

“Says the woman who’s simply intoxicated by the green stripes,” Barnes grinned.

Shepard frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“Ever tried sucking a drell cock?” Steiner asked.

“No?”

“Then you wouldn’t.”

“Whoops,” Zhu said and dropped an ammo crate on Steiner’s boot.

“Argh! Dammit, woman, have a sense of humor.”

“I do, which is why there aren’t a hole in your head.”

“All right, all right. Compare proclivities when you’re back up here, and don’t shock the rookie. Poor thing aren’t used to this kind of perversions.”

Shepard smiled awkwardly, but chose not to comment.

“All in yellow armor? Got the blood spatter out from last time, Barnes, well done.”

“Last time?” Shepard said.

“Oh yeah, do this all the time,” Zhu said. “We have a set for Suns too, but not Bloodpack. Hard to fake a hump or vorcha teeth.”

“Right.”

“In the shuttle, people. Zhu, up front. Don’t crash us.”

“Roger that, sir.”

 

**2176 CE – July 20 th – Therum – Two clicks outside T'Soni's camp – 08:45 AM**

“Fucking great flying, Zhu,” Steiner said. “We almost didn’t survive at least five times.”

“I can still hear that mouth of your yapping, I’ll try to do worse next time.”

“Silence!” Coats barked. “The enemy might be near. Barnes, take point. Shepard, number two. Use shield if you see incoming, we’ll handle offense out here.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Just Coats in the field, Shepard.”

“Yes, s… Coats.”

“Damn rookies.” Steiner checked his assault rifle. “Just don’t get us all killed.”

“I’ll try, no guarantees with regards to you.”

Zhu and Barnes chuckled.

“The pup has teeth,” Coats laughed. “Let’s go.”

 

The trek up leading up from the basin to doctor T'Soni's camp was relatively quiet. Barns shot one scout and Shepard had locked a second in a biotic hold until Zhu blasted the batarian pirate with her shotgun. They reached the ruins unscathed, but the entrance had been blown open and the Suns had already started their attack.

“They weren’t expecting an ambush, but now they’re aware we’re here,” Coats said. “Hopefully the other teams will provide sufficient distraction to allow us time to get the doctor out.”

“In and out like a phantom.” Steiner adjusted the straps on his yellow chest plate.

“Sounds like you,” Zhu said under her breath.

“All right, no more trash talk. This is the critical point. Get this right, and you can bitch all the way back to the ship, understood?” Coats barked.

“Yessir!”

“Zhu, your turn at point. Shepard, still on second. If Zhu spots the enemy, freeze it. Steiner, knock it down. No civilian casualties if we can avoid it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Barnes and I will provide support, which means mopping up whatever you guys missed. Shepard, you ready for this?”

Shepard nodded and stretched her rifle arm. “Hell yes!”

“Good! Let’s go.”

 

The underground passage leading to the excavation site winded and sloped downward for hundreds of meters. Here and there parts of the wall was reinforced with beams, some of which creaked ominously when they passed by. There were footsteps in the fresh dirt fallen from the roof, and Shepard tried not to look too long at the rusted struts carrying the weight of the mountain. One big explosion, and this place would come tumbling down like a rock avalanche. The tunnel snaked further down, and they moved forward in the light of their shoulder-mounted flashlights. After another few turns, Zhu raised her fist and they all halted. Voices. Batarian, turians, humans and the occasional snarl of a varren.

“Right,” Coats whispered. “Turn off those lights. Zhu, see if you can tag a few enemies. Shepard, grab those closest to us for as long as you can. Stay out of firing range if you can assist us with biotics, but don’t hesitate to fire if your life’s in danger. Steiner, Barnes, you know what to do.”

A low chorus of ‘yes’sir’s’ sounded in the flickering light.

The tunnel came out on a side wall to a large chamber, containing what looked like a huge mining laser. It had been ripped from its bracings and now laid capsized on the ground. The Suns were standing with their backs to the tunnel, hiding from geth snipers hiding on the second floor of the shaft.

“Tag the snipers, Zhu” Coats ordered, “We’ll take them out later.”

“Crossfire,” Steiner said with glee. “Ready when you are, guys.”

They crouched down and fanned out into a v-spread around the stones and rubble. Somewhere above them a varren died screeching. Shepard set her sights on the nearest three Suns. When Coats gave the signal to attack, she hit all three with a wide stasis field while somebody, and it sounded like Steiner’s SMG, fired a whole clip into the static bodies.

“Next!” Coats yelled. Shepard pulled out her gun while running across the chamber, firing at the geth above and throwing another stasis at the two batarians crouching behind a stone pillar. Only one was hit, but Zhu was rapid firing with her shotgun, causing stone to crack and shower the second batarian with splinters. The frozen pirate was sawed almost in half, while the last one made a run for it. Shepard, still running, clipped him in the shoulder and Coats finished him with a burst of rifle fire.

“Upstairs,” Steiner shouted and swapped the SMG for his assault rifle, heaving it to his shoulder. The red-dot lines trailed after Shepard, whom enveloped herself in a shimmering shield.

“Follow the lines, kill them!” Coats ordered and fired another burst at the first geth sniper. The geth was struck in the leg, but it merely started hopping in one place and firing each time it landed.

“I’ll get it,” Steiner said, followed by the echo of his rifle rolling off the walls.

“One left,” Zhu yelled. “Can’t get it from here.”

“Elevator not working,” Coats said, pushing the panel. “Maybe a grenade..?”

“Not with all that loose rock in the shaft, sir,” Barnes said.

“I got it,” Shepard said. “Cover fire, please.”

Coats squinted at her, then nodded his approval. “Go!” The rest of the team fired away at the hidden geth, and Shepard dropped her shield, stood by the broken ladder leading to the scaffolding above and jumped in the air, activating lift at the same time. The six seconds it took for her to get close enough to grab onto the planks was like an hours, but she heaved herself up and extended her rifle. The geth had realized the danger it was in and opened fire, but Shepard dived behind some metal crates and fired blindly in the geth’s direction. A series of small metallic clanks told her she’d been lucky enough to hit, and she dared sneak a peek at the geth from behind the crate. It’s right arm was blown off, and the head hung on one side, light still shining in the circular front lens. Shepard raised her hand and fired one last round. The head exploded.

“Well done. Now get your ass down here,” Coats called, “we need to find the researchers.”

“Is that what they taught you at that turian station?” Steiner asked when she dropped back down on the ground level.”

“Not really,” Shepard said. “I first tried it to show off in front of some friends, but it had other applications as well.”

“Heh, not bad for a rookie,” Barnes said. “You kept up.”

“Hey, I think I got something.” Zhu waved them over. “Look at that!”

A second smaller room could be seen at the base of the dig site, but it was covered in a shimmering blue light. Behind the blue barrier, a lone asari hung up in the air.

“I think that’s the doctor,” Coats said. “Quite the pickle she’s in. Not sure if that light’s a trap or not. Shepard, can you try approaching with your shield? We’ll guard the perimeter. No telling when the next contingency of pirates will arrive.”

“Yessir.”

Shepard raised her biotic shield and walked towards the blue light. The asari stared at here with wild eyes.

“Hello! Can you help me? Please? Can you even hear me? I’m trapped!”

“Hey hey, keep it down. Might be more Suns out there.”

The asari looked like she was on the verge of tears.

“Oh no! Eclipse! Please go away, I have nothing of value. Take the equipment! Take it!”

“Hey hey, relax. I’m private Shepard from the Alliance navy. This yellow comes off rather quickly, I promise.”

Shepard smiled what she hoped was a friendly smile to the frightened asari. T'Soni took several deep breaths before calming down.

“Thank the Goddess. I feared no one would come. They’ve killed all my colleges, I’m the last one left. Listen, this thing I’m in is a prothean security device. The barrier curtain kept me safe, _and_ trapped. You need to find a way to get me out!”

“All right, we’ll look around. Hang tig-.. Uh, I’ll be right back.”

“Hurry!”

Shepard hastened back to Coats and explained the situation. The team started looking around for a solution, but it was Steiner who stumbled on the idea first.

“Hey, what about the laser? Look where it’s aimed.”

“Yeah, at the ground,” Zhu muttered. We might blast our way down to the volcano below.”

“Maybe,” Shepard said. “Not many other options.”

“I agree. We’ll try. Barnes, hack it.”

Barnes readied his omni-tool and started the hacking program.

“Might not be able to change the intensity of the laser,” he warned. “Lot of damage to the system.”

“We’ll use what we have,” Coats said. “Fire!”

Sparks erupted from the mistreated engine, then the whole apparatus started to shake, control panels blinking sadly in the dim light.

“Stand back,” Steiner warned and pulled Shepard and Zhu backwards. Seconds later, a big red beam erupted from the expander and struck the ground, hurling up clouds of dust and gravel. Where there had previously been a large heap of dirt, there was now a big hole, leading into a small antechamber.

“Woohoo, told you.” Steiner grinned.

“Gloat later, let’s get the doctor.” Coats was first down the hole.

The new room was filled with a soft blue light, but they knew the place to be booby-trapped and proceeded cautiously. The smaller room lead up past the trap doctor T'Soni was trapped in, and through another hole in the ceiling above them, they managed to traverse a collapsed panel and climbed up behind her.

“Doctor T'Soni? I’m lieutenant Coats of the Endeavor. Do you have any idea how to turn this device off?”

“That panel over there,” T'Soni said. “But be careful.”

“Yes, mam. Shepard, will that shield of yours prevent the old sensor from reading your life signals long enough so you can place Barnes’ hacking tool on it?”

“I somehow doubt it, but I can try,” Shepard said.

“We’ll go back down the hole, just in case.”

Coats, Barnes, Steiner and Zhu jumped back down into the small antechamber.

“Be careful, private Shepard,” T'Soni said.

“Did you use a shield barrier when you tried this?”

“No. The pirates were coming in from all sides, I just pressed every panel I could reach, hoping one of them would do.. something.”

“They did something, all right,” Shepard grinned. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you out.”

The doctor gave her a tentative smile in return. “I hope so.”

“We’re ready, Shepard!”

“All right, approaching the panel now!”

Shepard drew up another shield, and the room resonated with the hum of the energy fields and her biotic force. Several small vines of blue energy darted out from cupolas on the surrounding walls, jutting against the shield and pulling back, then repeating the process seconds later. Shepard ran up to the console and latched on Barnes’ device.

“Got it. Do your thing, Barnes.”

“Receiving,” he called back. “Keep contact with the panel.”

The vines were now jabbing at the shield, and Shepard redoubled her efforts keeping them out. For every attempt, they grew in strength.

“Now would be preferable,” she called out.

“Hold your horses, just a minute.”

“I don’t think I have a minute.”

The pressure of the energy vines made Shepard buckle, and she fell to her knees.

“Please, Alliance lieutenant Coats, hurry,” T'Soni yelled.

“Barnes!”

“Almost.. almost.. There!”

The blue lights flickered, and the asari dropped from her hanging position and Shepard fell over by the panel.

“Private!” T'Soni was by her side immediately. “Thank you.”

“Not over yet,” Coats barked. “Now we move. Shepard, stop lazying on the floor. Get up.”

“Yessir.” Her legs were like jelly, but she struggled up with the help of the doctor.

“I hear shots above us.” Steiner aimed his rifle up. “Can’t see anyone yet.”

“I know a shorter way out.” T'Soni pointed at another tunnel. “Through there. I know the route, but for anyone else it will be a maze.”

“You heard the doctor,” Coats said. “Follow her lead.”

Above them, they heard the roar of a krogan.

“Oh, fuck, no,” Shepard groaned. “Probably a battlemaster. Don’t want to be around when he gets here.”

“Run!”

They had almost made it to the tunnel, when the asari came to a halt.

“Wait! My research.”

“No! Leave it,” Coats bellowed, but T'Soni was already running back.

“It’s just over there, I know it.”

“Wait!” Shepard ran after her and tackled her to the ground just before a shotgun blast shredded a small statue behind her. Shepard landed on top of the asari and gave her a deadly glare.

“Really, doctor?”

“I’m.. I’m so sorry, but this research is one of a kind, if we lose it..”

“Cover fire!” Steiner shouted and let of a salvo into the upper floor where the shotgun wielder hid.

“Come on.”

The doctor was almost hauled on her feet, but she managed to grab the datapads before they they ran back towards the tunnels.

“Move it!”

Zhu grabbed T'Soni and dragged her to the front. “You and me are point.”

Now they could hear the footsteps of the roaring krogan, and with the doctor in front, began a hasty retreat through the winding tunnel. Behind them they could hear the scraping of someone’s hump against the low ceiling and some very inventive cursing. He was too big for running effectively in small spaces. T'Soni lead them safely to the summit, but when they were almost out, they stopped. The upper wall had collapsed, and while they could see the sky above them, they could not reach it. Not without help.

“Fuck,” Coats breathed.

“Sir, there is a way,” Shepard said quickly. “I can use lift to get you all out.”

“And yourself?”

“I can lift myself last, if you can drag me over the edge.”

“Shepard, you already have a nose bleed.”

From the tunnel came the baying of a varren pack.

“Sir.. our options are somewhat limited.”

“Christ, I’m going to regret this. Don’t blow our heads up.”

“I’ll try.”

Shepard lifted Coats first, and he had the wherewithal to steer with his hands and feet against the crumpled wall, leaving Shepard free to concentrate on the upwards motion. Then T'Soni, and Coats hung over the ledge and pulled her up as soon as he could reach her. Then Steiner, then Zhu, but after Barnes, Shepard’s vision was hazy and she coughed up blood.

“One more, Shepard. You can do it! I’ll carry you to the shuttle myself,” Steiner called down.

The krogan was dangerously near, and Shepard jumped up and activated lift, scraping her head against the wall as she went ever higher.

“Just a little more,” Coats said while he hung over the edge while Barnes and Steiner clutched his armor straps.

“There you are, Eclipse rats,” the krogan boomed below her. “Not so fast, I think.” He fished something out of his armor and shot Shepard in the back with it. The electrical surge cut off her biotics, and she tumbled back down on the floor.

“Gotcha!”

“Let her go!” Barnes yelled.

“Give me the doctor in return. Solem Dal’serah wants her, and whatever research materials she carries.”

“I can’t do that,” Coats said through gritted teeth.

“Well, then I can’t guarantee the safety of your friend here.”

He hauled Shepard to her feet, and got a headbutt in the snout as a reward. She was sadly too weak to put any power behind the move.

“Argh! Ahahaha, I can see why you like her. Feisty, this one. I’m sure she’ll fetch a good price in the right market.”

“No!” T’soni shrieked. “I.. we can trade, the datapads for-..”

“No, doctor. You’ll come with me. We need a translator,” the krogan snarled.

“I can’t go against orders,” Coats snapped at T'Soni. “He’s just stalling us until his friends arrive.”

“But Shepard-..”

“We’ll come back for her. I swear,” Coats shouted. “I can see a shuttle moving this way, it isn’t ours.”

“She can’t beg for help,” the krogan laughed and held Shepard up by her throat. “And now she can’t hear you either.”

Shepard saw the black hump come towards her face at nose height, and the world went dark.

 

* * *

 

When she came too, the first thing Shepard noticed was the smell. It was a warm, humid and confined sort of stench, one that signaled that numerous bodies had inhabited the same space for some time, and most of them were none too clean. Slowly, the crust in her eyes gave way and she opened them to see she was locked in a cage, standing in a row of other cages. _Slave pens._ Raising her hand to remove some grit from her face, she heard the clink of the chains before she saw them. Brand new and shiny neural inhibitor shackles, for biotics. A stinging pain in the back of her neck made her check, and sure enough, they’d ripped out her amp. She felt caked blood in her neck and on her face. It was mixed with the last remains of the yellow face paint she’d smeared on before the mission. Her fingertips brushed over the left arm, and there was a bloody hole where her omni-tool implant should be. Fuck!

In the cage on her right, a young woman was whimpering quietly.

“How long have I been here,” Shepard asked, using the bars for support and pulling herself up.

There was no reply. Shepard raised her voice.

“Hey, how long was I-..”

“It does no good, shouting at the girl,” a voice said behind her.

She hobbled around on her axis, and saw a krogan lean his hump against the bars.

“They’ve had fun with her, as they call it. Got tired of the screams. Now she can’t scream any longer.”

“How long-,” Shepard repeated, and almost choked on her own tongue. She was parched.

“Five days. Krakk brought you in, telling to the captain you’d almost killed yourself with the overuse of biotics. They took bets on your survival. Guess Krakk won.”

“Where-..”

“The Ramlat Dreams. Apt, don’t you think? The captain won’t be pleased you’re alive. Vorhess is seldom pleased by anything.”

“You don’t sound like any krogan I know,” Shepard said and placed her forehead on the cold rusty metal bars. There was little else of relief to be found for her thundering headache.

“Know many krogan, do you? I wanted to be a scholar, and got thrown off Tuchanka. They don’t read much. Got captured on my first flight to the Citadel, can you imagine?”

“Sorry,” Shepard said.

“I’m going to the fighting pits, human. Feel sorry for yourself. Humans are a commodity in some circles, I understand.”

The female prisoner on their right huddled up into one corner and started to cry.

“Perhaps not in front of her,” Shepard hissed.

“We’re all dead sooner or later, human, but unless you want to end up like her, I suggest you hurry up your own death.”

“My ship,” she began, but remembered her cover. She was an Eclipse, not an alliance soldier. “My crew will come for me.”

“I don’t think so.” The krogan’s red eyes were dull and without hope. “We’re already in the terminus systems. The slave block on one of the outlaw planets is what’s in stall for us. Take my advice, and die now.”

“And I don’t suppose you’ll kill yourself as well,” Shepard said with as much sarcasm as she could mount.

“I tried,” the krogan said. “Damn healing won’t let me. Pierce one lung, I still have three to go.” He pointed at a big scar on his chest.”

Shepard stared at the krogan. She’d never known their kind to be cowards, and this one, for all his academic hopes didn’t read as one neither. It dawned on her that if he spoke the truth, he might have a point. Once a slave was sold at action, it was either put in training or chipped. The kind of training depended on the kind of slave, and by judging by the words of the krogan, the woman on her right already had a sealed fate. Batarians were infamous for their trading of slaves to their home colonies, and females were very popular, for obvious and nefarious reasons.

Shepard looked around the other cages in the hold. Turians, other batarians, humans, asari, some salarians and one other krogan.

“Krogan are expensive,” her new adviser offered. “Hard to catch. Hard to kill. Excellent pit fighters.”

“And that’s your fate?”

“Never heard of a krogan pleasure serf, although you never know.” The krogan sighed.

“Pleasure serf,” Shepard said with a slightly disturbed chuckle. “Good euphemism for a sex slave.”

“The slave is not the one being pleasured,” the krogan said.

“Yeah, I got that,” Shepard bit back.

If the awakening had been sobering, the last minutes had been brutal to Shepard's growing realization that death might be the better option to her predicament. Lost out here, in the terminus systems, with no backup and no rescue in sight. If the Alliance knew where she was, surely they would have come for her before they cut out her implant. Unless.. unless the implant was on its way to another destination. The sudden understanding of her own perilous situation drained her of strength, and she sagged down to the dirty floor.

“Death,” the krogan repeated. “Humans are soft and squishy. Should be easy if you anger them enough.”

Shepard rested her head on her knees while the feeling of emptiness overpowered her. She was barely 19 years old, and she’d die here on a slave ship, under an assumed name, far from her friends and family. Lost, and nobody knew where to search for her. She sat still for an hour or so, contemplating every possible scenario, but taking over the entire ship on her own? Impossible. Fighting her way out? Useless. The thought of being made to submit to the Suns in any way was beginning to anger her, and she relished the sensation of anger instead of the anguish. The woman in the next cage still cried, the small sobs and sniffs carrying over to Shepard's cage, but she had no tears to give. Not to this place. Not to these people. The only thing she would give them were death. Hers or theirs, it didn’t matter. An ember of rage was seething inside, a small gust of wind and it would ignite, burning everything to the ground. Shepard saw flashes of black eyes and an asari face, warning her of the inner savage. Like Galenus’ words to her mother. But this was no place for civilized people. Shepard grinned, an evil and desperate grin. If they pushed her far enough, the savage would come out and play, and this time, there would be no Garrus to rein her in. _'Kill them all,'_ a familiar turian voice whispered in her head, and this time she welcomed it. She knew how to be cruel. Today the Blue Suns would know it too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will happen to Shepard's plan of death or.. well, death? Glory will not be found in this place. Will she succeed, or will everything backfire and and bring her to the auction block? Or is there a third option?
> 
> On another note, now I'm a whole week ahead of schedule! Wow! This chapter wasn't due until next Friday. But I've got the writing bug, and I simply cannot stop. :D  
> I got more twists planned for next time, so stay tuned. :)


	50. Defeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard tries to hasten her fate, with consequences for everyone.

The low continuous drone of the engine that carried through the bulkheads, helped Shepard calm down and focus as she tried to massage her bruised leg. The fall in the tunnel had twisted her knee, but as long as she kept moving it around a little and rubbed around the joint, the muscles relaxed and stopped twinging. The krogan in the next door cage had ceased talking, and was now slowly and methodically banging its hump against the metal door. Shepard ignored him, like she ignored the crying woman on her other side, and the huddled asari in the pen across from her. If things went according to plan, she would likely kill all of them when she lost control, or be shot down by the Suns and hopefully bleed out before they got their pliers out.

Somewhere in the distance a hatch opened, and drunken batarian voices echoed in the hold. Across the walkway, she saw the asari cradle her legs and hide her face on her knees. The captives on either side of her did similar things, they either huddled together or tried to make themselves as small as possible in the back of the pen. The whole cargo hold was rife with fear, and Shepard could feel it affecting her, sneaking in and pouncing on her resolve. She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe steadily, like they taught back in Rio. Fear was contagious, but fear was also curable. She felt her calm return as the batarians came closer. They spoke a dialect of Khar’sanos she could just about make out, but there were five of them and they slurred and talked over one another. Absentmindedly, she picked at the small hole in her arm where the omni-tool had been inserted. The translator was gone, but she could speak to that krogan. How? Was he a spy? The batarians were almost at her cage, when they stopped in front of the woman’s cage. Her sobs increased in intensity.

“How about this one?” one of the batarians said. “She comes highly recommended by the commander.”

“Last time she screamed so loud we heard it in the mess,” a second commented. “My ears can’t take that.”

“The captain put a vocal-inhibitor on her,” the first said. “Says to shut her down if she gets too noisy.”

To Shepard’s shock, she discovered that they were not all batarians. One human was among them, swinging a big stick from a rope around his wrist. It looked like an ancient cattle prod. He too spoke their language.

The human giggled. “Cap’n said she needed training. Gotta have the right tool to train a heifer.”

“Humans,” the third batarians shook his head. “We’re supposed to fuck’em, not kill’em.”

“No fun,” the human said and activated the electrical charge of the prod. The sound made several nearby captives yank their chains in an effort to move farther away.

“Get her out of there. Not getting my undersuit off in this dirty place, and I want her to be hosed down first.”

“You heard him,” the human said and banged the stick against the steel door. "Up you get.”

The woman wailed and clenched her fists around the cage bars.

“Looks like she’s a little uncooperative. We’ll soon have that fixed,” the first batarian laughed.

“Lowie, get her out of there.”

To the other slaves in the hold, this looked like a common occurrence, Shepard thought. Nobody said anything, and that included herself. The emphatic part of Shepard's brain told her exactly what would happen to the woman they were pulling out of that pen, but the cold analytical part told her that they’d be more easy to kill when they’d amused themselves with a fearful slave and weren’t expecting a riot after such a show of force. Three years ago, she might have shouted and caused a scene. Now, she merely waited for the right opportunity. That being said, Shepard thought as two batarians carried the woman out of the hold, now they were down to three. Bad odds, but better than two minutes ago. She rose to her feet and walked over to the cage door. Sure enough, the human spotted her first.

“Would’ya look at this? An Eclipse whore, thinking she won’t get the same treatment.”

Shepard took two steps back, goading the man to follow.

“Not so tough now, bitch? Think we won’t smack you around a few times because you’re Krakk’s property? Think again.” The human jeered at her, confidently resting his head on a horizontal strut in the cage construction.

Shepard smiled her deranged smile. In the hour that passed, she’d said made her peace with never seeing her mother, Decian, Dmitri, uncle David, Garrus, Four and every other person she could think of, ever again. It was time.

She lunged forward and slammed her shackles in the mans’ face. There was a sickening crunch of a nose being broken, and she jumped back out of reach. The assault didn’t have the effect she’d intended.

“Whoahaha, look at that!” the third batarian laughed. “Krakk told us she had spunk.”

“I’ll give her spunk all right,” the fourth batarian growled and walked up to the cage. “You! Slave! Come here.” He pointed at her and his own crotch.

Shepard cocked her head and pretended to not understand him.

“Aw, that’s right. We cut her omni-tool out,” the third one shrugged. “The rest of them has translator collars, this one does not. Krakk said it would be a waste of credits if she died.”

“Fhuuck Krakk,” the human called Lowie said and spat out two front teeth. “Open this fhucking door, I’m ghonna kill’er.”

“Not saying she doesn’t deserve it,” the third batarian said. He stepped closer, and his greenish skin made him look venomous. “But I’m not killing her. The krogan would have a fit and go back to the Bloodpack. Captain Vorhess will kill all of us.”

“Fhine. But I’ll get something out of her anyway. Open the door!”

“Krakk’s property, Krakk’s key.”

“For fuck’s sake,” the human said. “Get that boat hook on the wall.”

“As long as you’re the one explaining to the krogan, hehe, I’m okay with this.” The batarian Shepard thought of as Green laughed as he brought the hook.

“He’ll have to explain this,” Lowie said and pointed at his mouth. “An unbroken slave is a danger to us all.” Lowie held up his baton. “How do you like that?” he yelled, “50 000 volts up your ass will mellow ya!”

She calmly raised her middle finger, making sure he saw his own blood dripping from the shackle.

“That's’ IT! Gimme that hook!”

The hook was the long kind used to pull inn ropes and catch chains, and Lowie set out to catch Shepard with it. He tried snagging her feet, but while her arms were bound by the manacles, Krakk hadn't deemed it necessary to equip her with leg-irons, and she easily jumped around him. The two batarians, Green and Greener guffawed loudly at this strange dance. After ten minutes, Greener decided to help.

“Come on, Lo, we’ll be here all day with that progress. Here, give me that el-baton.”

Lowie saw Shepard's face grimace, and he handed the baton over, smirking.

“How’s them odds now?”

They approached from both sides of the cage. This would be a bit trickier. Shepard hadn’t considered that they wouldn't be able to open the doors, since her plan was to face death head on, not stuck in this little corral. It only took the pair three tries before Greener managed to graze her with the baton. The shock caused her to stumble, and Lowie snagged her foot and pulled her to the cage wall. Her forehead caught the brunt of the impact, and Shepard saw flecks of white swirl on her retina. Lowie grabbed her around the head, locking her head in place while Greener grabbed the chain linking her wrist.

“Not much of a face,” Lowie hissed, “but a decent rack.” His second hand grabbed her breast and twisted it hard. Her pained yelp only egged him on.

“Nice ass,” the batarian Green laughed and fondled her, while trying to stick his hand down her pants.

“Nashak, use the baton. Give her a lesson,” Lowie grinned, flashing his yellow teeth in Shepard’s face.

“Right. Stand clear,” Greener hollered as they let go of her, and jabbed her in the stomach with the prod. The intense pain of being electrocuted sent Shepard spiraling down a less trodden path in her synapses, and she could see her own assault like she was somehow above it all. She was still dazed, and the three men pulled her closer and used a knife to slice open her shirt, tearing it from her body.

“ _Too much for you, Shepard? Or is it just enough?”_ Vyrnnus whispered in her ear.

Shepard saw through the mist how Lowie pulled her against the cage bars, pulling away her bra and cupping her breasts with hard hands that left red marks in her skin. She could see her own eyelids flickering wildly.

Green was pulling at her pants again.

“ _Give me a show, Shepard,”_ Vyrnnus drawled, and drew his wet tongue along her neck simultaneously with Lowie. _“Or surrender.”_

The flickering stopped, and Shepard was back in her own body, being groped and fondled by unwanted hands. Her mind snapped.

The neural inhibitors on her wrists that prevented biotic discharge of energy started releasing agonizing jolts to disrupt her outburst, but she was far beyond any pain threshold. The biotic tremors started to course through her entire body, and her right hand ruptured the shackle around it and hit Greener in the chest with massive force. He was thrown back against the ship’s equipment rack and impaled on a tilted shovel handle. Lowie tried to jerk away from the cage, but Shepard grabbed his arm and used her weight to dislocate and break his elbow joint against the cage crossbar, making it crack open with a loud snap, and continued hauling the arm downward until a large piece of bone protruded from the skin on his inner arm.

The lone shackle on her left arm continued to pulsate currents of painful shocks, but besides the intermittent spasm of her arm, Shepard didn’t notice. She’d set her eyes on Green, the assgrabber.

“Help! Help!”

He managed to get two meters from the cage before Shepard lifted him off the ground with her biotics. The remaining shackle reduced her powers and made her almost drop him whenever the pain was sent into her skin, but she could lift a lot more than one batarian when unshackled, and while her powers were reduced, they were still potent.

“Help! Somebody!”

Somewhere a hatch slammed open and people were running towards them. Shepard, or rather the person who used to be Shepard refocused and slammed the batarian against the cage. The rough edges tore up his skin and made him bleed.  
“Please, don’t,” he begged, but the vacant expression in her face told him there was no longer a human occupant behind those eyes. She used biotics to push him away, and with a final biotic hurl slammed him again against the metal beams, breaking his skull and pulling his head all the way past the bars. The body of the dying batarian jerked around as two of his eyes popped out of their sockets and down on the floor just as help arrived.

 

* * *

The newly arrived batarian with insignia on his shoulders widened all of his four eyes at the atrocity before him. The human prisoner calmly stomped on the eyes, first one, followed by the other, then turned her head slowly to face him. Captain Vorhess had never seen anything like it. A half naked, half dead, bleeding human locked inside a cage had just killed two of his men, while the third was whimpering on the deck. Moreover, the desecration of the eyes was a blatant show of barbarism. She needed to be put down like a mad varren. He heard the hiss of the broken shackles, releasing current after current of increasingly powerful shocks, but she didn’t even flinch, just jerked her arm at every bleep. When she looked at him, the lip curled upwards and biotic charges started flaring on her right hand.

Vorhess raised his gun and aimed at her head, but not even that registered in the human’s blank face.

“Any time, Krakk!” he yelled.

The human spun around, but it was too late. A large black-humped krogan sneaking up from the opposite side shot three rounds at her. The first one was an overload which shattered her shield, followed by two concussion rounds straight in her solar plexus. Shepard's mind briefly remembered the gray armor from the day she was caught before she felt her consciousness slip away. Where her will had refused to yield, her body now betrayed her. She crumpled up in a small heap as the injured body gave the occasional spasm.

“It looks like your pet lives,” Vorhess said sourly to the krogan. “And my men does not.”

“Dead weight is best thrown out the airlock,” Krakk scoffed. “Hey you! Yeah, you! Human!”

Lowie clutched his broken arm and tried to stem the bleeding.

“I need the ship doctor.”

“Later,” Krakk growled. “What happened here?”

“She went crazy,” Lowie said. “We were taking that blond little thing down to the stockade to, you know, have a good time, and then she went all crazy n’shit.”

“Really?” Krakk said. “You do know there is a surveillance camera here? To prevent theft and destruction of property.”

“I… okay, fuck it. I got too close to her pen, and she fucking knocked out two of my teeth.”

“Bwaaahahahaa. Good on her. Idiots shouldn’t eat.”

“Then Nashak tried to order her to come closer, you know what he’s like, blowjobs in the pens is kinda his thing.”

“Was his thing,” Vorhess said and stared at the body of Nashak the greener, dipping gently from the shovel handle.

Krakk narrowed his eyes. “You tried to use my property? Without my consent?”

“We would’ve paid ya,” Lowie said, eyes shifting.

“Sure you would.”

“We caught her against the cell wall, and things just went out of control. She freaked out, broke out of the fetters and killed them both. I’m lucky to be alive.”

“Not so lucky,” Krakk said and pulled out his second gun. “You know the punishment for theft.”

“No! Wait! Haven’t I been punished enough?! I mean, look at this!” He lifted his mangled arm to the krogan’s face. Krakk shoved it away.

“Krakk, not that I don’t support killing thieves, but we’re two men short. Do you really have to make it three?”

Krakk shrugged at Vorhess. “Do you really need a man with one arm?”

“No, wait..”

“Good point,”Vorhess said after some deliberation. “Don’t think that’ll ever heal properly.”

“Right.”

“Noooo!”

A single shot ran out, and Lowie’s body convulsed on the deck. The slaves in the remaining cells peeked out and stared at the bodies of their tormentors.”

“Justice served, and all that, but you _do_ have to kill that female,” Vorhess muttered to Krakk. “Normally, we’d kill a few more slaves to set an example, but we’re running low on credits. I need to sell all this stock just to break even. At least I won’t have to pay these fools.” He shrugged at the three bodies.

“Like hell I will,” Krakk growled. “I got only two captives, the krogan and the human. I was planning on selling the human to Berosh, he does the kinky stuff, but now I’m thinking Leirak. She’ll net me a better price as a fighter.”

“Have you seen those?” Vorhess pointed at the half naked human.

“Seen what?”

Krakk stared at the unconscious human’s torso.

“Well, rub my quad. Those are talon marks. Damaged goods. No wonder she fought so much, must’ve had that experience once or twice in her life. I guess that settles it. Nobody wants a scarred up whore or a sex slave looking like that. The pit it is. Hah, am I glad I haven’t fed her yet. Biotics without food aren’t much use. Coulda been worse.”

“She was effective enough, and still not subdued.” Vorhess sighed. “You know you’ll have to have her chipped before you pawn her off on some unsuspecting idiot? A new owner must be able to control her.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get it done on Korlus. Don’t want a docile slave on the block.”

“Somehow I doubt that description will ever fit that thing in the cell.” The captain sighed again and used his omni-tool to call for a clean-up crew. Solem had a lot to answer for. This mission had been a complete disaster.

* * *

By the time Shepard regained consciousness, the bodies had been cleaned from the hold, she’d been stripped out of her shredded clothes and wrapped in a simple slave tunic, and the ruined shackles were replaced with three more like it. Her arms were like lead. A new chain were tethered around one of her ankles and welded into the floor. There was also a new neck bracelet with a built in translator. Worst of all, her head were still jumbled with flashbacks, Vyrnnus’ laughter and the memory of being assaulted. They whirled around her like a hailstorm. Without Garrus, there was nothing to latch on to, to bring her back to reality.

“You live,” the krogan next to her said.

“ _Barely,”_ Vyrnnus chuckled in her mind.

“What happened after.. after..”

Her temples were on fire, and rubbing them was difficult with these new moorings.

“Krakk killed the human for touching his property.”

“Why didn’t they kill me?” The words came slowly, and with great effort.

“He wants to get paid. I should congratulate you. We’ll die together in the pits now.”

“Fuck you.”

“Be grateful _they_ didn’t. Look right.”

Shepard twisted her tired body so she could see the woman in the other cage.

“Herrrrrhhh…. Muuhhhhrrrr..”

The woman smiled an unnaturally happy smile, head lolling from side to side.Whenever she turned her head far enough, Shepard glimpsed the fresh cut at the back of the head.

“Chipped.” the krogan said. “For shipping to Khar’shan. Different chip, different work. If she was aggressive, she’d be bound for the pit. If they’re overly friendly..”

“Stop. Don’t say it.”

“It’s true.”

“I know! Just don’t fucking say it!”

“… Sorry. I didn't mean to upset you.”

“Yeah.. I know that too.”

Shepard rolled up to a small ball and tried to sleep. She’d tried to make them kill her, and failed. If she ever got another chance, she’d have to kill herself.

“ _Should’ve done that years ago,”_ the ghost of Vyrnnus said before she passed out again.

 

When she woke up next, a large figure loomed outside her cage, flipping a jagged knife between its three fingers. The large black hump and the gray armor was instantly recognizable. It was the krogan who captured her.

“Look who’s back. Done ruining our ship now.”

“Not yet,” Shepard croaked. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

The krogan laughed. It was a loud grumbling sound.

“I thought I was going to lose credits on this trip, what with the failure of capturing that doctor, but you just might prove to be expensive enough. Come over here.”

“No.”

The krogan smiled and picked up a small bag of nutri-pastes.

“Won’t be long before your biotics start burning off your muscles, and how would you try to escape then. As far as I can tell, you haven’t eaten in days. And I have water,” he added.

Beside him, a large varren sniffed the food he was holding. Shepard glanced at the krogan in the next pen, but he was silent and with his back turned. Not one of the other slaves looked in their direction. Something was amiss, but Shepard knew he was telling the truth. Without food, her biotics would start eating her muscles, as there were very little fat on her body after all her training. It was a risk she had to take. She sidled up to him, keeping as much distance as she could. The krogan seemed reluctant to enter the space with her, and remained outside. Krakk still held the food outside the cage, and she was forced to reach for it. When her fingers clutched around the packets, she yanked backwards, but not before he’d grabbed a large first of hair, holding her in place. If she dropped the food, the varren would eat it, and the new fetters made it difficult to drag her hands back between the bars. She was stuck.

“Now I know they were trying to have some fun at my expense, those boys,” he said and held the knife over her ear. “But if we let slaves do as they pleased, that would defeat the whole object, wouldn’t it? So I’m taking an ear, just to make sure you’ll use the other to listen properly.”

Shepard dropped the food bag and twisted in his grip, kicking one of her legs out between the bars and grazing his quad. It was enough force to be felt behind the metal cod-piece.

“Oofh!”

The knife slipped, and the cut sliced from her temple down to her neck, the jagged edge tearing into the flesh and severing the top half of her ear. She pulled back with a howl of pain, eyelids beginning to flicker again.

The krogan stared at her, holding the bloody piece of ear he’d hacked off.

“Some kind of pain trigger, is it? Tuchanka’s dust, I’m gonna be rich. You might even last two seasons, perhaps even fight on Omega. Bwaahaahhahaa.”

He rubbed his quad to check for lasting injury. Shepard was still frozen, flickering between this reality and the one in her head. Krakk picked up the nutri-packets and dropped them inside the cage.

“Don’t want you dyin’ on me just yet. Sorry, Harz, no little packets for you. Have this.”

He dropped the half-ear in the varren’s waiting maw, watching it chomp the ear hungrily.

“That’s my good boy.”

Around the hold, the rest of the slaves held their collective breath. Was he done?

“Listen up, maggots. If any of you cause more trouble on this trip, we’ll cut yer balls off and feed it to my buddy here. If yer a woman, ya got teats, ain’t you? Got that!?”

The captives said nothing, merely cowered in their cells. Krakk signaled to Harz and marched out, flipping the knife between his three fingers.

 

Shepard was left fighting the demons in her mind. The jagged ear stub bled down her shoulder, coloring her tunic red in large uneven stripes. In front of her, she could see the batarian with the broken skull, his dead body still locked between those metal bars, spasms jolting through the cadaver. Over her bleeding shoulder, she heard Vyrnnus chuckle in her severed ear. She heard the crack of a broken elbow, felt hands on her body, the past and the present played out synchronously but disjointed, she saw the squashed eyes on the floor. She’d been here before, not alone, but with a friend. Where was _he?_ He could drag her back. He had her back, always.

Or rather, he used to. Not anymore. Shepard sagged down to the ground, the weight of the situation crushing her self-control.

Someone spoke with her voice, called out in the quiet hold; “ _Garrus, where are you?”_

There was no reply, and Shepard closed her eyes.

There never would be again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh, a double chapter-week. Aren't you a lucky bunch. What are you talking about, another cliffhanger? Hey, put down those torches and pitch forks! Get away from meee!  
> *Runs away*


	51. Chip off the old block

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard arrives at Korlus, a slave trading stronghold.

**Weeks later**

Shepard had learned a new appreciation of fear in the past few weeks. Fear was the one thing that kept her safe, fear of Krakk, fear of punishment and fear of her own bad self. The crew walked a wide berth around her cage whenever they had to pass by her. Sure, at feeding time they frequently spat in her food, or threw the stale foodstuffs or old nutri-packets at her head, but there was nothing remotely like that first incident. Krakk sometimes stopped by to check that she wasn’t trying to starve herself to death, and often gave her extra food. She shared some of it with her depressed krogan neighbor. He’d let it slip that his name was Weyrloc Skogan, from a big Bloodpack family. His captor was from a rival warband inside the pack, and picked him as spoils of war to give a ‘fuck you’ gesture to his clan when Skogan’s shuttle had been raided.

There was no way of telling how much time had passed since her capture. The lights never varied, and no Suns talked to the prisoners except for _‘hey you,’_ and _‘your turn.’_ They’d chipped the asari in the opposite cell too. She was burbling and mumbling like the woman to Shepard’s right, and that was part of the reason Shepard ate her food, except for those pieces she lobbed to Skogan. Weakening herself too much could lead to a fate like those women, and Shepard was already planning to escape or die when they reached their destination. An opportunity would arise when they had to move her from the ship or the cage. She’d not shared her plans with the krogan. Although she kind of liked him, as much as one could learn to like someone in this gruesome place, she didn’t trust him. She simply couldn’t afford trust anymore.

 

When the hatch leading from the hold slammed open, Shepard jerked awake. She’d not had more than perhaps two hours continuous sleep since she came on board, apart from being unconscious, and coupled with the self-control issues and time sync lapses, she was more frequently hallucinating both voices and people. She _knew_ that bastard Vyrnnus wasn’t there and tried to ignore him whenever his apparition spoke to her. And that weak moment when she’d actually called out for Garrus. She’d been really ashamed at that. Garrus was happily joined with a female light-years away, he’d become a proper turian, with no time for old enemies who’d become friends.

“Hey, Eclipse! Get up!” Krakk’s voice was like a whip, and it made her slashed ear itch.

“Piss off!”

“Hah, still some fire left in that shell. Good. We land in a few hours, time to earn me back your upkeep, slaves.”

He turned to Skogan’s cage. “And you, you better not give me any trouble either. Don’t think I won’t break that hump of yours if you disobey me.”

“Yes, Krakk.” The compliant voice made Shepard uneasy, and Skogan looked down in shame.

“See, this one I broke in a different way,” Krakk said and licked his snout. “It was a long trip from Khar’shan and back. Screamed like a female, but in the end, he learned who owns him.”

Skogan said nothing, but stared down.

“When I get out of these shackles,” Shepard said in a deadened voice, “I’ll find you and kill you in a very inventive way.”

Krakk grinned and stepped up to the cage.

“If it weren’t for the fact that you’re one fucked-out, scarred-up turian whore, with some rather impressive anger issues, I might try and give you the same lesson. As it is, I’ll be satisfied with the price you’ll get me with Leirak. Now Berosh, he does the expensive ‘specialty items,’ but you, I’m hoping for 400 000 credits once you’ve had your showing. That one over there,” he nodded at Skogan, “maybe 150 000.”

Shepard ignored the turian-whore part of his speech.

“Showing?”

“Mhm. Fresh meat fight in a show ring in front of potential buyers.”

“And you think we’ll survive?”

“Oh, I know you will. You’ll go first. If you lose, I’ll punish him.” Krakk pointed at Skogan.

“I’ve seen how you share food with him. If you fail, I’ll pawn him off to Berosh despite the loss of revenue.”

“No..” Skogan clutched the bars.

“You wouldn’t lose money just to teach dead me a lesson.” Shepard glared at him.

Krakk chuckled. “Are you sure?”

“Eclipse, please don’t antagonize him.” Skogan still closely observed his feet.

“See? Well trained, like a good bitch.”

Krakk pulled his head back just in time before Shepard’s thrice-shackled fist connected with his face.

“Bwaahahhaa, just like that. Show me that anger in the ring, and I’ll let the bitch die with honor.”

He walked away laughing, and she tried to calm her rage with breathing.

“ _How rude,”_ Vyrnnus said. _“Like one of those animals can kill someone trained by me. Kill him, Shepard.”_

“Stop it,” Shepard hissed.

“I couldn’t stop him,” Skogan said and knelt down. “He was too big. Too big,” he repeated as an afterthought.

“Sorry, Skogan, I didn’t mean you.”

“ _Let the weakling die,”_ Vyrnnus scoffed. This time she had enough presence of mind not to answer him.

“He’s right,” Skogan said. “I surrendered. I should have fought to the death.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Will you do it? Will you get yourself killed, like I said you should?”

“I don’t know.”

Shepard stared at the asari woman opposite, now trying to wash herself with water and cloth that wasn’t there. “If we both end up in the pit, sooner or later we can kill each other.”

“If I live that long,” Skogan muttered. “I’m not a fighter.”

“Then you better fucking learn fast!” Vyrnnus barked in Shepard’s voice.

“I suppose… I suppose you’re right.”

She reigned herself in. “Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

“Because it’s true.”

“Still shouldn’t have said it.”

“It’s fine.”

“No it isn’t. Nothing about any of this is fine.”

“Well.. It’s not for much longer, I think. I hope.”

Skogan sat down and remained silent until the rumble of the thrusters told them it was time to land.

 If she strained her brain back to remember her navigation lessons, her teacher had mentioned Korlus as a garbage scow with a climate. As soon as the cargo bay doors opened, Shepard understood why. The heat of the desert swept into the ship, carrying with it the smell of the large smelters that broke down the shipwrecks to reusable metal, and the stench of industrial waste that seeped from the cracked ship tanks. There was no daylight outside, only floodlights to help prevent escape attempts.

One by one the captured slaves were clipped onto a thick metal cable with welded lock swivels every meter and a half. The whole procession was tied to a large war buggy, haphazardly repaired and banged together of whatever metal plates was available at the time. With the crew members as gleeful guards, the buggy began dragging the stumbling and whimpering herd towards a large circular building next to the aerodrome.

Only Shepard and Skogan remained.

“There you are, my pretties,” Krakk said as he walked up the ramp with a large cable. “Time to go.”

“Open the door, then.” Shepard tapped the lock with her shackle.

“Oh no, I ain’t falling for that. I want word to get around. Krakk’s got the most dangerous beasts on the planet, can’t even open the cells unless it’s to the ring. Gonna pull the entire cage over.”

“And Skogan?”

“He can walk, he knows how to behave. You, on the other hand.. Can’t have you die from stupidity now, so close to my payout.”

“Why thank you,” Shepard said sourly.

“No problem.”

Krakk hooked the cable around the lowest crossbar and gave a signal. The cage was yanked from its pedestal and almost toppled over.

“Careful, idiot!” Krakk bellowed. “You’re gonna hurt the merchandise.”

“Sorry Krakk,” a voice hollered back. “Is the cage clear?”

“Yeah, pull away!”

The cable creaked and twanged as she was pulled after a second smaller buggy, but the tugs and the pulls from the vehicle was nothing to the staring crowds that followed them through the junkyard to the large domed building in the middle of the shantytown. Being a single prisoner in her own cage was very unusual, and she saw people in the crowd whisper among themselves, pointing in turn at her and Krakk, following behind like a triumphant Cesar. This was precisely what he hoped for, Shepard thought, a big show of the new fighting slave, just what he needed to inflate the price.

But what could she do now? She really didn’t want Skogan to die or get raped because of her, but a lifetime as a slave wasn’t tempting at all. Only the gods knew what they did with fighting slaves in the end, if they fought them until they died or.. reassigned them when all their strength was gone. She picked at the shackles again. Perhaps a new ‘owner’ wouldn’t be so paranoid as Krakk. As long as she didn’t get chipped, she could try and escape. Though, how she would get away from this planet was another matter.

 

* * *

 

Inside the building the residents of the town had built a large amphitheater in the likeness of, but still a smaller pale shadow, of the legendary Colosseum on earth. In the center of the room stood an elevated arena. it was fenced of with a low ornamental railing. In the middle of the arena there was a large cage, built to withstand even the most ferocious matches. Outsde the rails were seats built of concrete and metal, all bolted to the floor. Apparently the slaver's didn’t trust their clientele to refrain from using violence outside the cage, Shepard thought as she was dragged past. Along one of the inner walls there were a stage. It was split it on two, one half significantly larger than the other. The established fighters were held in cells on the larger half, on the other side, empty cells were on raised plinths with spotlights lighting up every inch. An auction block. Shepard almost threw up. This was becoming very real very fast.

 Shepard's cage was the only one to be hoisted up to an empty plinth. The rest of the potential fighters were mercilessly thrown inside an available cell. She scanned around for Skogan, but Krakk still held his leash and didn’t seem interested in putting him up for sale yet.

“Remember what I said, Eclipse,” he grinned and patted the smaller krogan on the hump.

“I said I’d kill you, and I meant it,” she said calmly.

“Gotta be alive to do that. Don’t think most of the newbies here would be a match for you, once you’re free of those fetters.”

“You’ll remove them for the fight?”

“Bwahaha, don’t get yer hopes up. Look at the main arena area. What do you see?”

Shepard strained her eyes against the sharp floodlights, and saw what he was pointing at. The rail poles. It wasn’t ornamental at all. Circling around the arena and mounted on the railing were tall struts, humming with electrical power, the miniature spires on top sparkling and revealing an almost invisible energy field. Anti biotic measures. Fuck. Shepard saw Krakk grin as he observed her observations. He undoubtedly knew what she was thinking about, the bastard. Around the hall, an excited chatter spread among the guests. They knew what was about to happen, and Krakk grinned even wider.

“I need to do some advertising,” he said and walked into the excited crowd.

Shepard heard his booming voice announce her as the best thing to arrive on Korlus for a decade, starting at the dirt cheap bid of 50 000 credits, killed three crew members while still in the cell, biotic at no extra cost, highly trained, only slightly damaged and on and on.

People crowded around her and the adjacent ochre-plated turian captive, and the pair of them garnered the most interest.

“Hey, human,” the ochre turian said as loud as he dared. “Hear me with that ear?”

“I hear you,” she said indifferently.

“I got a mate and kids at home. They shot down my shuttle. Go easy on me, huh?”

Shepard turned her head to look at him.

“ _See how the keel bone has been hacked away?”_ Vyrnnus whispered. _“Traitors from the Sun get that treatment.”_

“Sure you do,” Shepard said, and wondered where she’d actually picked up that piece of information. It was _not_ from her ghost tormentor, now returned to whisper advice in her severed ear. It couldn’t be.

“Come on, human, I need to see them again.”

“See them in hell, fucking slaver, cause that’s where I’ll send you.”

“Curse you!” he bellowed and punched the cage wall.

“Whoa whoa, easy there, slave.”

A huge batarian with a coiled up whip appeared.

“Matches haven’t started yet. Until then, shut up and do as your master says.”

“Yes, Leirak.”

“And you, human, behave.”

“Bite me, needle teeth.”

Leirak guffawed.

“Krakk was right. That attitude will net him a lot of credits. You’ll be.. instructed in how to speak only when spoken to after you’re sold. I’ll offer to do it myself,” he said and fiddled with something small in his pocket. “I’ve become quite the expert.”

_“Tell him to go to hell.”_

“Fuck you!”

“Oh, and now I’ll take pleasure in it as well.”

“Stick your pleasure up that well used ass of yours.”

Leirak smiled and shook his head.

“It’s really too bad you’re not in Berosh’s stable. I’d have paid good money to sample. Ah well, can’t have everyone in this world. Krakk’s chattel, his choice.”

He left her there, fuming and regretting saying stupid things while in captivity. That wasn’t helpful, but she had problems containing her impulses, or rather, ignoring sudden urges to cause havoc.

Shepard became aware of a man in a yellow armor standing outside her cage, holding up his omni-tool as if to take a holo.

“Hey, hey! No holo’s of the merchandise!” Leirak shouted as he came running back. “Any images taken can be found and used to track us down.”

“Wasn’t taking a bloody picture, was I,” the man said. “She looks like someone I know, thought I might invest.”

It was a familiar accent, and reminded her of Coats.

“Hope you got the credits,” Leirak said. “If what Krakk said is true, this one might get up to half a mill. Got some heavy betters in here tonight, and they want fresh blood.”

The man whistled. “Lotta dough, that. Let me shake my cushions, see what falls out.”

“You do that.”

The man stepped closer and stared intently at her.

“Careful! That one’s deadly even when locked up.”

“She would be, wouldn’t she,” the man said. “Good breeding does that.”

“Not advisable with this one, I’m afraid.”

“Are you saying I can’t fuck a slave when I’ve bought and paid for it?”

“Fuck it all you like, but no one on Korlus knows how to sew your cock back on.”

“Heh heh heh, a bit of danger quickens an old man’s blood. Be right back.”

Shepard caught a glimpse of a misshapen face when he turned his head, but the bright light was a nuisance. The people in front of her looked like moving shadows, and not actual living beings.

 

After an hour or so, Shepard was soaking in sweat from the heat of the lamps. Krakk had been by with a water bottle, uncommonly magnanimous of him, but with the impending fights, she knew it wasn’t from a kind heart. It was doubtful whether that krogan had either of his hearts, the callous prick.

The crowd was getting stirred into a buying fever, and they hurried back to the seats around the arena.

“Showtime,” Leirak announced in front of the new fighters. “I’ve had a request to fight the two of you first,” he said and nodded at Shepard and Ochre. “Krakk doesn’t want them to be broke when they bid for his rabid human.”

“How thoughtful,” Shepard said.

“Isn’t it? Here he comes.”

Krakk appeared with Skogan on a tight leash.

“I guess this is it. Remember what we talked about, Eclipse.”

He reached down and laid a large hand on Skogan’s tail stub. The smaller krogan let out a whimper.

She tried to control the feeling of helpless rage, but already her eyelids were flickering again.

“That’s it,” Krakk smiled. “Show Vorhess his treacherous lieutenant is nothing but a pile of shit.”

“Hey, I’m not a Sun,” the ochre called out. “I’m innocent!”

“Shouldn’t have tried the captain’s favorite piece of pussy without permission,” Krakk shrugged. “The man holds a grudge.”

Shepard forced herself to slow the blinking. The trance could not be allowed to happen. She needed to stay clear headed.

“Biotics allowed?”

“Yes. A normie facing a biotic would start with a small shield generator and a knife.”

“That doesn’t seem fair, to the normie.”

“And it’s two against one.”

“That’s.. more fair.”

“It’s not about fair, slave. It’s about entertainment. I arranged something special for you, though. Don’t die on me now.”

Leirak and Krakk picked up two control sticks, and Leirak stuck the noose inside the cage and collared her. Shepard stood still, undecided on what to do. Escape from this hall with all these betters eager to haul her back and put her in the pit was impossible. And then there was Skogan.

Krakk opened the door and put a second noose around her neck. While she was doubly stuck, Leirak used the opportunity to release her chained foot. The krogan hadn’t punched the release code for her shackles yet, and Shepard had to let herself be dragged and pushed by the throat over to the large cage. In front of the arena cage itself was a smaller starter gate. They shoved her inside and stepped outside the power pylons. Krakk punched several codes on his omni-tool, and the chains and manacles fell to the floor with loud clangs. Shepard stretched her neck and arms. Finally free. On the opposite side of the ring, two other starter gates were filled. One was the ochre turian. The other was an unknown krogan. A big one.

“Fuck...”

The turian had a knife, the krogan did not. Triple fucked. He was biotic.

“Gentlemen!” Leirak called to some boos from the crowd.

“And females.” This got more boos.

“We have a special slave on offer tonight. Former mercenary. Killed three people during transport! Three!”

“Two, actually,” Shepard muttered under her breath.

“Has to be contained at all times, unbeatable in the ring!”

“Since when?”

“ _Since now, Shepard. Stop being a defeatist,”_ her tormentor whispered. _“Kill the turian quickly. Knife and talons are a problem, you should know that by know, half-ear.”_

“Shut up!”

“ _Use shield, you’re good at that. Avoid getting caught between the krogan and the wall.”_

“I know all this!”

_“Then do it. Don’t whine to me if you lose.”_

“To face a new face among us, a former Blue Sun brother, now fallen from grace, and our very own FURG!” Leirak was really getting into his speech now.

 

Shepard had began breathing hard, staring at her two opponents. Vyrnnus was-.. Her subconscious was right. Take out the turian quick, then wear out the krogan. She was still a goddamn N6, she could do this.

Leirak continued his oration while the bookmakers made their last round. Shepard pointed two fingers at her own eyes, then at the growling krogan on the other side. He roared and rattled the gate, clearly accepting the challenge. Shepard smiled her mad smile. This was just another test, she told herself.

“ _A very final test if you lose.”_

She forced the voice from the forefront of her mind.

“Gentlemen, and those cumbersome females in the back, the books are closed! Let’s FIIIIIGHT!!”

The crowd's cheer thundered in the hall as the doors slammed open. Shepard rushed right out of the gate, heading straight for the large krogan. He was already working his way up to a running charge, glimmering with biotic power. The turian twirled his knife a few times to get to know the feel of it, but stayed back. A charging krogan stopped for nobody. One meter away from the oncoming onslaught of krogan, Shepard activated biotic dash and avoided him by a nose. The krogan slammed headfirst into the wall, almost knocking himself out against the steel column that held up the roof net. The turian understood her intentions at once, and swung his knife low, knowing that her first biotic assault would be repelled by the shield. Except that none came. Instead, Shepard avoided the slash with ease, and swung her elbow straight in the turian’s jaw. He stabbed wildly for her throat, she blocked him again, grabbed his arm and twisted both of them sideways so that his back was turned to the rattled krogan. Ocher made the mistake to turn around to see of he was attacked from behind, and Shepard used this opening to stomp down on his spur. It split in two with a loud snap. The turian fell to his knees, subvocals shrieking in pain, and Shepard snatched the knife from his waving arm. He tried to claw at her, but she spun around him and set the knife to his throat, opening the soft flesh in the throat from mandible to mandible. She cut deep on purpose. Blue blood flooded over her hand, and the turian keeled over, death spasm rippling his muscles. The fight had taken less than two minutes.

The crowd went wild. Over from his corner, she could hear Krakk shout “That’s my female!”

The smell of blood seemed to bring the krogan back to his senses, and he growled low in her direction. “Here, little pet,” she goaded. “Tired of being some merc’s plaything, fucked up the ass whenever you’re not in the ring?”

“Curse your eyes, human! I’m a champion! Eleven wins.”

“And one imminent death. Come, let me give it to you.”

The krogan snarled and threw stasis at her. Shepard’s barrier fluctuated by the impact, but remained in place.

“Not bad,” she said. “If you were a child.”

He closed the gaps between them and jabbed at her head, and she weaved around him, dodging his punches. Shepard knew he was likely more powerful than her in a direct biotic assault. That had never been her strength. However.. She held out the knife, and it started to spin around in the air.

The crowd, who’d been booing at their circling, went dead quiet.

This was new territory for the krogan. Object manipulation was notoriously difficult, and very few biotics could apply that in real time combat. All the while, Shepard was trying to flank him, and between that and the spinning knife it left him few options but to back away.

“Slice him open!” a salarian shouted from the crowd.

“Rip her arms off,” a krogan yelled from the back.

“ _I know you can do more than one thing at once, Shepard. Don’t waste the momentum here,”_ Vyrnnus warned.

Shepard pounced at the krogan, landing a solid strike on his snout before he could block. She followed the attack by more strikes and jabs, but he was a seasoned fighter, and when she swung with her left, he bowed his head so she landed the punch directly on the hump. The pain of the impact made her stagger backwards, and he immediately seized the advantage and tackled her against the wall, using his whole body-weight to pin her.

The people outside were in a frenzy, and Shepard heard whooping and booing even over the sound of her own heartbeat thundering in her ears as the krogan tried to choke her. The flickering came back.

“ _Aren’t you forgetting something,”_ Vyrnnus hissed.

The spinning knife had began to wobble dangerously, but Shepard mounted her last reserve and steadied the gyration. With a tremendous force of will, she sent the spinning blade spiraling down between the krogan’s legs from behind.

In the rabble outside the cage there was pandemonium. They saw before the krogan what was about to happen, and many betters screamed warnings at him, but too late. Shepard heard the scraping noise as the knife struck thick natural armor, and then there was a soft _shloop_ -sound when the razor sharp blade sliced open soft meat and muscles. The grip around her neck loosened, and the krogan screamed, at first a soundless open-mouthed scream, but as the sensation of pain flooded every corner of his being, the high pitched wail that tore up his throat was deafening. He sunk down to his knees, clutching his quad. Shepard pushed away from him and saw that the blade had cut open the rear of the testicle pouch, spilling the two internal testicles out from it’s protective sheath. The krogan desperately tried to push them back inside.

“ _Fantastic. Now put him out of his misery.”_

The knife had come to rest embedded in the floorboard next to the kneeling krogan. Shepard picked it up and stared in horror at her own handiwork.

“Kill, kill, kill, kill,” the mob chanted on the outside.

“ _They regenerate,”_ Vyrnnus said casually.

Shepard caught sight of Skogan on the outside of the cage. His face was a mixture of dread and hope.

“Do it,” he shouted.

The kneeling krogan swung his head up and stared at her. “Yhouuu,” he breathed.

“You or me, krogan,” she said, then thrust the knife deep in his eye socket. He bellowed in agony, and Shepard focused a powerful reave, blasting the krogan in the face, while hoping to the gods that his skull weren’t too thick for her to kill him.

His body began to shake violently as the reave tore through his brain, and Shepard intensified the attack, pouring her last drop of biotic energy into his death. There wasn’t a sound in the hall when she stopped the reave, but when the krogan toppled over and hit the ground, a loud cacophony of cheers erupted in the hall.

“This, gentlemen, is what you’re bidding for. Furg, the champion of the Suns, killed by the newbie known as Eclipse! First bid is 50 000 credits, do I hear 50?”

“50!”

We have 50, do I hear 60?”

“60!”

“70!”

“85!”

“100 000!”

 

Shepard lost track of the bids when she saw the mix of blue and red blood on her hands. It didn’t become green, for some reason, a stray thought flicked in her mind. It was only… gray. There was nothing to do with gray, someone once said.

 

“I have 610 000.00 credits,” Leirak shouted. “Any more?”

There was a low murmur, but no more bids. Shepard tried to make out who the last bidder was.

“Going once, going twice..”

“640 000 credits!”

The bid had come from a man in the back. Shepard could just make out the yellow armor. It was the man from before.

“640 000 from the gentleman in yellow. Eclipse colors, of course you want a slave to compliment the armor.”

“Yeah yeah, so is she mine or what?”

“Going once, going twice, sold to the nice man in yellow. Congratulations. If you would come over to Krakk over here, we will see to the credit transfers and the paperwork.”

“Sure, guv.”

Shepard’s head was spinning from her efforts. The wear on her system was worse than she imagined if one single fight could tire her this much. There hadn’t been much that much biotics involved.

Leirak and two other batarians came into the cage. Shepard turned around slowly. The auctioneer didn’t take any chances, and shot her in the stomach with a taser. She went down like a dead krogan.

“Hurry, hurry. Clamp them back on,” Leirak hissed. “I want this done now.”

The shackles were replaced, and she was unceremoniously dragged out of the cage, head bumping into the doorstep. The degrading haul ended in the small shack of the sale’s area, and Shepard was lifted from the ground and dropped on a large concrete slab with straps on each corner. Before she could react, she was flipped over and strapped down.

“Krakk said we had to be quick, she could have one of those seizures any moment. Get the drill.”

A small buzz started in the back of her neck, followed by pressure and the sensation of getting colder. The realization hit her like a whip. They were shaving her neck. They were going to _chip_ her!

“ _Shame, really,”_ Vyrnnus said. _“We were getting along so well.”_

Shepard started tearing at the straps, eyes flickering wildly. This wasn’t how this was supposed to end!

Somewhere to her left, the whirr of a bone drill started up.

In her mind, Vyrnnus laughed.

 

**2176 CE – August 25 th – C-Sec training room – 08:09 AM**

Decian reread the message from Dmitri. It was nothing but bad news. The human had used his father’s contacts in the Alliance military to get word of Jane, but they were keeping a tight lid on things for the moment. The best he could figure out was that a training mission had failed, and Jane had been left behind. The Alliance had sent another cruiser for a rescue mission, but so far it hadn’t reported back.

Decian closed the omni-tool, but the letters on the large holo-screen swam in front of him. The rest of the day he answered wrong on so many questions, the teacher sent him up to his uncle’s office for a stern talking to.

 

“Decian Chellick, what is the matter with you? I thought getting early admission into the C-Sec program was your dream?”

“It was. It is! I merely.. Things aren’t… I mean, right now, I just.. She’s gone,” he blurted out.

“Who? That little asari you’ve been dating?”

“She’s not-.. a little asari. She was on a mission, and now she’s gone!”

“Spirits, Decian, don’t tell me you’ve been screwing some commando? The asari Councilor will never let me hear the end of it.”

“Doesn’t matter. She’s missing,” Decian said, deflating his fringe.

Pallin sighed.

“Listen, nephew. While I don’t exactly approve of this liaison, asari commandos are the toughest, meanest biotics known in space, apart from krogan warlords. She’ll be back.”

“I hope so,” Decian said.

“I’m sure she will. In the meantime, I want you to focus on your training, unless you want to get shipped back to the army.”

“Yes, uncle.”

“I’m sure nothing bad’s happened to your little fling. Be diligent in your studies and you won’t even notice time flying by. She’ll be back in you arms in no time.”

“I will.”

Decian tried to sound upbeat, but his uncle heard the sadness he was trying to suppress. Venari gave him an encouraging smile and sent him on his way. He really should introduce Decian to more turian females, he thought. A young strapping lad like that shouldn’t waste his youth pining for one female, no matter how blue they were.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time we finish the chapter with a nice look at what's happening elsewhere in the story and not a cliffhanger. Isn't that great? Hello? Guys? Why are you chanting? What's with the incense and that strange circle on the flo.... Aaaarrrgghh!! Demons! Demons!  
> *escapes out the window*


	52. Dealing with property damage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man in yellow's identity is revealed, but is he really there to help, or merely get some cheap thrills?

“Hey ey ey! What do you think you’re doin’?”

The man in yellow armor charged in and snatched the drill out of Leirak’s hand.

“Did I say I wanted it chipped? It’s my property now, and I say what goes for the things I own.”

Shepard stopped yanking at the straps and held still. Her fate was hovering on the edge of disaster.

The batarian glared at the human, then held up a small metal chip.

“Massani, you have no idea what you’re setting yourself up for. You need this. As far as I know, you’ve never owned a fighter before. This one is uncontrollable, the only thing that kept it in check was the threat of killing its companion, now that they’re separated, you really want to be able to shut it down instead of having to kill it and waste the investment.” Leirak tried to pry the drill out of the other man’s hand, to no avail.

“Seems calm now,” Massani said and patted her back.

Leirak rolled his four eyes. The insult made the man called Massani cross his arms.

“It’s a ruse. The moment you get it alone, it’ll try to convince you to remove the inhibitors, or fuck to it.”

“I’ll fuck whatever I want, thank you.”

“I’m sure you do,” Leirak said. “I’m warning you it might not be a good idea. Besides, the chipping is free of charge, courtesy of Krakk, and you know that krogan doesn’t waste credits.”

“So, that’s how it is,” Massani said loudly. “You’re tryin’ to scam me, ain’t you? Sell me a good fighter, then chip it and turn it into a worthless husk? Hey, I’m getting scammed over here!”

“Ssshhh!” Leirak hissed. “You’re not being scammed!”

“It’s daylight robbery, that’s what this is! You tryin’ to sell me a defective ware!”

Outside, there was some commotion from potential buyers who caught the exchange, and Leirak gave up. If the man wanted to die, that was his business.

“Fine. Remember what I told you. Don’t trust it.”

 

“What the fuck are you, or rather, _aren’t_ you doing?”

Krakk had arrived, pulling Skogan after him. “I told you to open her skull and put in the controller chip.”

“This gentleman has objections,” Leirak said. “He wants it feral.”

Krakk glared down at Massani, but the human merely took out a knife while eyeing the krogan’s hump with feigned disinterest.

“This one’s getting chipped right now,” Krakk growled, taking a step back. “She’s dangerous.”

“I don’t give a flyin’ fuck what you want, Arlas Krakk. I ‘ave the transfer data right here. It’s mine!”

“You really are as dumb as you are ugly, Massani. You can’t control this one, not when I couldn’t. The only thing that kept her in check was this little thing,” he patted Skogan on the hump, “and now I’m pawning him off to the first bidder. I have new orders, and she brought in more than I thought.”

“I’ll give you 30 000 for it.”

Krakk stared at him. “30? He’s worth maybe 150.”

“Untested in the ring, and walking around on your leash? It’s a pet, not a money earner,” Massani chuckled. “We’re men of the world, we know what he's for. But, if he keeps her calm..”

“Like fuck I’m selling him for that price,” Krakk snarled.

“No? How about I start screaming my head of about how you tried to trick me into buying a damaged slave? Think you’ll make it out of here alive? Those boys out there take their hobby very seriously.”

Krakk turned to Leirak, whom shook his head and shrugged. The man had a point. Trying to kill each other was a legitimate way of doing business, trying to cheat at the arena fights was considered a crime, even among these lowlifes.

“Curse your droopy balls, Massani. Payment right now, or the deal is off.”

“Fine with me.”

Massani opened his omni-tool and pressed some buttons. Krakk opened his and confirmed the transaction, then slung the leash in Massani’s face.

“Doubt you can handle any of them. I will relish the news of your death.”

“If you live that long,” Massani replied. “Somehow, I doubt it. Leirak, an explosive collar for the krogan, please.”

“I’m glad to see you haven’t lost all your senses,” Leirak said and waved some underlings over, whom fitted Skogan with a new collar. It had small containers nailed around the rim, and would cause enough upward damage in case of detonation to take a krogan’s head off while sparing the surroundings. Leirak was very proud of that invention.

“You’re insane,” Krakk said. “But it ain’t my problem no more. I got other business to attend to.”

He walked up to Shepard’s bound figure on the table and lovingly patted her ass.

“Let me know how she feels,” he chuckled to Massani.

Shepard renewed her frantic struggle.

“Get your paws off my slave’s ass,” Massani retorted and swatted away his arm. Krakk walked out, roaring with laughter, and Shepard stopped wriggling as soon as nobody was groping her.

“If you’d be so kind, have the pair of them delivered to my shuttle right now,” Massani said to the batarian. “Unchipped. Drug it if you have to, but no brain damage.”

Shepard let out a relieved breath of air as the straps came away and she was hoisted to her feet. The man in yellow stepped up and cupped her cheek. His eyes had different colors, and it looked like half his face had been grafted on after an accident.

“Are you going to give me any trouble, little duck?”

“Not right now, no.”

Massani laughed. “But maybe later, eh? Good. I like the attitude .”

He turned to Leirak to discuss some fodder for the krogan, and she and Skogan were pushed and pulled towards the airport.

“What do we do?” Skogan tried to whisper. His kind really wasn’t built for subterfuge.

“We wait,” she said, putting the emphasis on the last word.

Skogan got the hint and said nothing more until they were loaded into their new homes and the door locked behind them. After Leirak’s henchmen left, Shepard looked around the ship. It was an older model scout shuttle, limited FTL and no offensive weaponry. There was only room enough in the hold for one large cage, and they’d both been locked in it. Not the fanciest transport, but reliable and sturdy. Enough to get them away from Korlus and send out a signal for help, if they could overpower one man. Shepard gave Skogan a tired smile. How tough could the old geezer be?

 

* * *

“Making yourselves at home?”

Massani strolled in and smiled at the pair.

“Never owned slaves before, but there’s a first for everything.”

Shepard got up and leaned against the cage, making sure her damaged ear was hidden. It wasn’t very sexy, and she wasn’t an expert in seducing humans, but it was worth a try.

“Master. I never thanked you for saving me back there,” she said, trying her best smoldering gaze.

The man grinned, lighted a cigar and walked up to the cage. He stayed just out of reach for a grab, and deliberately blew smoke in her face, making her cough.

“You can spare me that master bullshit, Jane Shepard. Yeah, I know who you are,” he said smugly and chuckled at her astonished face. "I'm Zaeed Massani, mercenary extraordinaire."

“I’m not this Shepard,” she said quickly. “I’m a former member of the Eclipse, and I-..”

“You’re Jane Shepard, daughter of the finest piece of ass in the milky way, Hannah Shepard, and no lies are gonna change that. I’d recognize her face if it where growing on the back of an elcor’s bum.”

“An elcor’s..”

“Never you mind that. Lemme tell you a story.”

Shepard turned to Skogan with a bewildered look, but the krogan looked as confused as her. The bottom had just dropped out of any escape plan she’d hatched, and now she had to go along with this madman’s story time.

Massani went and got a small barrel and a beer, then made himself comfortable. Shepard sunk back down on the floor. It was obvious she wouldn’t be able to lure him any closer for the moment. Massani took another big drag of the cigar, and began.

“This is back in 2165, when your mum still had the Vengeance.”

The sentimental tone in his voice told her that this was a story he’d thought about a lot.

“We were smuggling some highly advanced weapon mods off earth, and were headed to the krogan homeworld. Somehow, those damned Spectres had gotten wind of our little operation, and intercepted us just outside human territory. They hailed us to stop, but we turned around and hightailed it back to our side of the border.

“2165,” Shepard said to herself . “That was the year..”

“Spectres don’t give up that easily, and the Infiltrator followed us across the border, despite having no jurisdiction in human space. I was sure we’d be shot down, or bordered, or worse. And that’s when it happened.”

Massani got a dreamy expression on his face.

“ _She_ came up on the screen like a Valkyrie, passing right above us and went straight for his ship. The SSV Vengeance, Hannah Shepard’s first captaincy, and she took on that spook Saren Arterius like it was nothing. Crippled his ship, boarded it and went toe to talon with that nosy prick.”

Massani’s face shifted between admiration and something else Shepard didn’t feel like thinking too much about.

“I’ve heard all the stories, watched the vid, read all the articles. She beat the shit out of him! I’ve seen the before and after holos,” Massani continued. “Never was much for turians in the first place, but Arterius looks like he’s been chewed up and spit out, and your mum looks fine as ever. Damned fine! What I wouldn’t give to plow that field.”

“Eew!” Shepard mouthed to Skogan. He tried not to laugh.

“And now, I might get the chance. Imagine how grateful she’s gonna be when I save her little girl from the dastardly slavers. Grateful enough to give an old man a little kiss or two, eh?”

“Uhm,” Shepard said and glanced at Skogan.

“Hey, I don’t know your mother’s taste in men,” he said and shrugged.

“Maybe,” Shepard said, turning back to Massani. “She won’t be equally impressed that you have me locked in a cage.”

“I’m not daft, little duck. I know you’re military, like your mum. If I let you out, you’d probably try and kill me and take over the ship, am I right?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied dryly.

“Glad to hear it. So here’s the bugger. You need to fight in the arena for me.”

“What the actual fuck? Didn’t you just say you wanted to woo my mother by rescuing me? Nothing like putting her child in mortal danger to get beaten to death by a Valkyrie yourself.”

“I’m aware, but do you think I have 700 000 credits just stuffed up my arse crack? I had to put my ship up as collateral for the purchases, and there’s no way we’re leaving this hellhole without paying the piper his dues.”

“You bought us on a whim?” Shepard said, stunned.

“I just told ya, I did it to curry favor with your mum. Now, we all need to work together to get out of here.”

“You don’t dare let me out of the cage, but you trust me to fight and not get myself killed?”

“If you try anything in the arena, I’ll blow your friend’s head off. No hard feelings, krogan, it’s just business. And a little love.”

“I understand,” Skogan said. “It’s sensible to have some security.”

“Weyrloc Skogan, are you buying this crap?”

“He seems a bit unstable,” Skogan said out of the corner of his mouth, “but yeah, I believe him. Especially that part about your mother. I could smell the pheromones coming off him when he talked about her.”

“Eeeww! Stop it!” Shepard hid her face in her hands. “You’re all nuts.”

“Think about it overnight, Shepard. I get that you want to rest after tonight, but that pawnbroker is gonna want his credits back soon, and we’ll be stranded here with no ship and no way out.”

“How about food?” Skogan said.

“Sure. I’ll get you some. Don’t try anything, I just programmed that exploding collar to my own life signal.”

“Smart,” Skogan said. “I’d do the same.”

“I like you, krogan. Despite having to pay for your company.”

“I must be dead,” Shepard muttered. “There can’t be two morons like this in the real world.” She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.

“We need to get an early start tomorrow,” Massani said. “I have some other unfinished business to take care of, in addition to getting my ship out of pledge. That son of a bitch can’t elude me for long.”

“Who?”

“The villain who gave me this face, is who. The rest is not your concern, krogan. Get some sleep. You’ll both need to be rested if she is to become the new champion. Oh, and here’s some thing for the ear. Looks like it’s about to go green.”

Massani tossed a small bottle of neu-penicil to the krogan. With surprising gentleness, Skogan placed a small dab on Shepard’s ear and covered the top half with the yellow salve. She held still, even when it hurt like hell.

“If it hurts, the nerve endings are still there. That’s a good thing, trust me,” Massani said. “And rage is a hell of an anesthetic.”

“Is Krakk still on planet?” Shepard said with her eyes closed.

“I like where your mind’s at,” Massani said. “but no. He left Korlus just after touching your ass.”

“I’ll fight for you,” Shepard said after a pause. “ You’ll free us, and I’ll find that bastard, no matter where in the fucking galaxy he hides, and tear his quad off.”

“Doin’ it the wrong way, Shep. You had a knife in the ring today. Get that thing stuck in the right way, and you can pull that plate right off a krogan’s head.”

Skogan put his hands on his hump, as if to hold it down. “We don’t talk about that.”

“Tell you more about it tomorrow, eh? ” Massani grinned. “I need to arrange some good fights.”

He picked up the barrel and left, turning down the lights enough to make it seem like night. It wasn’t much, but it was more than they ever received in the Ramlat Dreams.

“You think we can trust him?” Skogan said.

“I don’t we should trust anybody who buys slaves, but right now he’s our best chance. I almost got chipped, he prevented that.”

“ _But why?”_ Vyrnnus chuckled. _“To earn your trust? To make you do his bidding? You really are a naive slave, Shepard.”_

“Shut up!”

“Hearing voices again?”

“I… Don’t ask, Skogan. You’re just making it worse.”

“Now I have to share cage with you, it was a lot safer for me when you were locked in your own.”

“Sorry..”

“I guess.. I guess we both have to show some trust here. If you flip out again, can you give me a moment’s notice at least?”

Shepard snorted.

“I can try, but no promises. Don’t grab my ass without being asked, that works fairly well.”

“Duly noted.”

 

**2176 CE – September 29 th – THV Ravuna Pride – Armory – 16:45 PM**

The smell of gun oil and metal polish was familiar to him, but Garrus found no solace in familiarity today. Chellick had forwarded him an official report from the Alliance, stating that Jane Shepard was declared killed in action during her last training mission. He hadn’t told the others yet. Saying it out loud would make it real, and he wanted to live in his bubble a little longer. The Volkov laid across his legs. Jane’s gift to him, for saving her life and leaving his name out of her own report. He’d give this and a thousand more rifles if he could only see her one more time. One talon traced the hidden name on the stock. _J. Shepard. J. Shepard. J. Shepard._ Again and again, like a summoning charm, but the universe was silent, and he felt dead inside.

“Hi, Garrus. Awesome rifle,” a female turian said. It was Nyreen Kandros. Garrus flicked a mandible at her in greeting, and continued stroking the rifle.

“Maybe you’ll let me try it next time?” Nyreen said.

“No.” He didn’t even look up.

“Didn’t know you to be this possessive, Garrus. Family trait?” she smiled.

Garrus glanced at her. Why did she mention his family? Was she too looking for some of the Vakarian claim to fame?

“Personal gift,” he said sullenly. “It’s programmed only for me.”

“A gift?” Nyreen laughed. “More like a damn dowry. Someone values your hide, Vakarian.”

Garrus looked down.

“Yeah.. she did. And I fucked it all up. This is all I have left.”

Nyreen stayed her quip about stealing the gun and pawning it at some kiosk for booze. The look on his face told her it would not be well received.

“Hey, I’m sure she’ll forgive you for whatever fuck-up you’ve done. A gift like that tells me she cares more for you than you know.”

“Care for me?” Garrus said incredulously. “What would you know about how she cared for me? She didn’t just _care_ for me, we’re bonded!”

He struggled to control his subvocals.

“We _were_ bonded.”

“I’m so sorry Garrus, I didn’t know she was-..”

“Don’t! Not another word!” he snapped. “Leave me alone!”

“I.. Sure. No problem.”

Nyreen left with a sympathetic last look, and Garrus hid his face in his talons.

Jane was dead.

She was dead, and this stupid expensive rifle was the only thing he owned from her. The only thing that proved there had been a connection between them, besides personal messages he’d never share with anyone. How dared she?! How dared she leave him alone like this? He was supposed to say he was sorry, and she’d be angry with him and come around after a month or two. That was how it worked! She wasn’t allowed to die! Not Jane, not Jane, not..

Garrus dropped to the floor and clutched the rifle, subvocals firing salvo after salvo of pained cries that echoed in the armored walls, but nobody heard him, and nobody came to his aid.

 

**Korlus, late September**

_The crowd cheered, more blood on her face, she could feel the warm stream gushing rhythmically between her fingers as she pinned the screaming human to the floor._

“Do you think she knows we’re here?”

_Her mother was laughing at something_ _naughty_ _uncle David said, and she couldn’t understand the joke back then._

“Dunno. Looks pretty out of it.”

_The chant in the background chanted kill, kill, kill as she lifted the turian above her head in a biotic hold, and slammed him down on the floor, breaking his back with a loud snap._

“She can’t keep this up, Zaeed. She zones out for longer every time you tranq her.”

_Two figures standing outside the cage, staring at her, talking. More blood._

“Have no choice when she goes berserk in the ring. We still need 80 000 credits, then we can leave. We finally have a new champion arrived here from Omega.”

_The figures became a human and a krogan._ _No dead turian._

“You said that last time too.”

_Zaeed Massani, human and Weyrloc Skogan, krogan._

“I never knew she was gonna be the favorite that fast, odds changed,” Zaeed complained. Shoulda bet bigger the first fights, but I was low on credits, remember?”

_Zaeed and Skogan._

“She won’t last,” Skogan insisted. “I can’t even be in there with her anymore.”

“I’m all right,” Shepard mumbled and ignored the blood she kept seeing everywhere.

“You’re not all right, Shepard,” the krogan barked. “Zaeed, this is killing her.”

“I can see that, but unless we get those last credits, I can’t buy back the ship.”

“I can take it,” Shepard said and pulled herself up. “One more, right? I got one more in me.”

“No,” Skogan said. “I should fight.”

“No offense, buddy, but you’re no pit fighter, you said so yerself.” Zaeed shook his head. “Duckie, I’m sorry, but we need this last bet. I’ll go all in, we’ll get enough to get outta here.”

“I can fight. I can fight,” she repeated to no one in particular, eyes unfocused.

“Zaeed, she’ll fight and win, but she might not be Shepard anymore,” Skogan begged. “Let me, I can do it.”

“No. Sorry, krogan, but if we get her out of here, she’ll get the help she needs.”

“Needs. Needs,” Shepard repeated.

“But..”

“Look, Skogan, unless you plan to sell your ass eighty thousand times, we got no other option!”

Skogan shut his mouth and growled, furious and ashamed at the same time.

“Hey, sorry, but she’s the best fighter I’ve seen, and people are willing to spent money when we put her in the ring. You, not so much.”

“Fine, but this is the last time,” Skogan said. “Or I’ll take my chances and squeeze the life out of you before my head goes boom.”

“Deal. Get her prepped for tonight, feed her, but don’t clean her up. Odds might be better if she looks like she’s about to break.”

“Bastard,” Skogan said under his breath, but Zaeed heard it.

“Listen, princess! I’m the reason you’re looking at freedom at the end of this line, so shut yer goddamn yap. I got enemies here too. ”

Zaeed glared at the krogan, then leaned down to Shepard, who was clinging to the bars of her cage.

“Sorry sweetheart, but I need you to go one last more time into the fray, can you do that?”

“I got this. I got this,” Shepard said and tried to avoid looking at the blood seeping up from the floor.

“Good. I’ll get you back to mum as soon as we’re outta here.”

 

**Later that night**

_Broken arm._

Blink.

_Shattered dermal plates._

Blink.

_Split quad._

Blink.

_Blood._

Blink.

_Blood._

Blink.

_Blood_ _dripping down her face_ _._

Shepard drew breath deep into her lungs and opened her eyes again. She was back in the present, crowd chanting her name , Eclipse, Eclipse, over and over while Zaeed paraded her around the ring. They’d kept running with the label and her face was covered with yellow paint to symbol her affiliation with the gang. Over in the other starting gate, her opponents was already locked in. It was a turian with dark brown plates, beige colony markings and a deranged look in his face. He kept pulling at the gate, shouting indiscernible words in his own dialect that the translator couldn’t pick up.

“Watch out for that one,” Zaeed warned as he pulled her back to her own gate. “I hear he was a sergeant in the turian military before Garm had him chipped. Now he’s little more than a meat slicer on legs.”

“Military?” Shepard said and looked over. “Like me?”

“Hey! Don’t get any ideas,” Zaeed barked. “Whatever he was is long gone. Like you would’ve been, if not for a certain handsome fellow standing in front of you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You can give that turian a quick death. It’s the best thing we can do, not letting Garm use him as a plaything.”

“Plaything?”

“Listen, Shepard. Burned out fighters are either killed, or sold to some low rent brothel. Garm is Bloodpack. Need I say more?”

Shepard closed her eyes and drowned in blood not her own.

“I understand.”

“Good. Now get him!”

He slammed the starter gate shut, and when it opened on the other side, Shepard _was_ death.

 

**Korlus pawn broker, two hours later**

“700 000 credits, with a mere ten percent markup for returning the credits before the month, 70 000 credits. All in one go.”

Zaeed punched the account number, and the volus behind the counter confirmed the transfer.

“Well done, mister Massani.” _‘Sch-lck.’_ “Some of our backers will be very disappointed,” _‘Sch-lck.’_ “not to take possession of the Azure Hope.” _‘Sch-lck.’_

“Haven’t we all felt that sadness,” Massani chuckled and moved to leave.

“Incidentally, I understand you are to leave Korlus.” _‘Sch-lck.’_ “ Would you be interested in selling your Eclipse?” _‘Sch-lck.’_

“Not a chance. I like her to warm my bed at night.”

“I see.” _‘Sch-lck.’_ “ Not even for two million credits?” _‘Sch-lck.’_

Massani stopped.

“Two million? Who has that much credits laying around for a fighter?”

“Not your concern, Massani.” _‘Sch-lck.’_ “ Do we have a deal?” _‘Sch-lck.’_

“No!”

“Three million?”

“Hell no! And you can tell whatever buyer you’ve got lined up, I’ll kill whomever tries to pry her out of my hands.”

“Understood.” _‘Sch-lck.’_

 

* * *

 

After Zaeed left, the volus sent a short message to Omega.

_“Target_ _located._ _Sale refused. Advice wanted.”_

It took twenty three minutes before there was a reply.

_“Tag ship.”_

 

The volus sighed and picked up his omni-tool. The T’Loaks were more trouble then they were worth. Not that he’d ever say that to her face.

 

* * *

 

Aboard the Azure Hope, Skogan had just rolled the unconscious Shepard into a blanket when Zaeed hurried in and slammed the cell door closed.

“Hey!” Skogan protested.

“We’re out of time. Someone wants to buy Eclipse for a rather obscene about of money. It’s either a trap for me, or someone’s discovered who she is. We need to go, now!”

“You locked me in here!” Skogan protested.

“Sorry, can’t have a loose krogan on deck. I dunno what kind of plots you two have hatched behind my back, and I’m not taking any chances. Not that I blame you,” he said with a short laugh to the frowning krogan. “I’d do the same in your boots.”

“If she wakes up, she’ll tear me to pieces,” Skogan looked at the limp form of Shepard.

“Use these chains,” Zaeed said and threw some near the cage. “I have to get us out of here.”

Skogan felt bad while chaining his one friend to the wall, but if her mental state was like he feared, she’d be a danger to everyone on a flying vessel. They had to get her back to her people. If only it wasn’t too late.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, are things looking better for Shepard, or will everything be for naught? Are they safe now? Will things go according to Zaeed's plan? I'm sure everything will be peachy aaaaall the way back to the Citadel.. Right? Mwaahahahaa.. 
> 
> I had to make up a sound for that sucking noise in the volus suit, but the sounds it makes in my language is impossible to transcribe without it sounding like some very creepy sex sounds in English, so it is what it is.. ;)
> 
> Some family members (harbingers of Nurgle, more like it) stopped by and gifted me with a serious case of the flu, so instead of being at work, I've been stuck in the couch with a bucket and my laptop, gifting the rest of you another early release. Enjoy the fruits of my pain ;)


	53. Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zaeed is not taking them straight to the Alliance, he has other plans, but what does that entail for Shepard and Skogan?

**2176 CE – October 05th – Flux – 23:10 PM**

Chellick was drunk. He’d been drunk before he arrived at the bar, like he’d been drunk many days leading up to this one, but he’d been denied service at Chora’s Den.

The report of Jane’s death had gone public, and his uncle was starting to add the numbers together, but he didn’t care. So what if Venari knew about his love affair with a human. She was dead now, but people around the station just went on with their lives. He stared at the part-goers at the dance floor. Dancing, drinking, fucking, laughing, and his life would never be the same. He hated all of them. Two talons in the air, and he had a double in front of him. Some part of him had began to resent _her_. For leaving him here alone, after everything they’d been through. Her mother, her stupid squad, that pathetic wretch Garrus Vakarian whom nagged him for information. He was out there, wasn’t he? Why couldn’t he find her? Or what was left of her. Chellick lifted the glass to pour it into his mouth, missed and poured most of it on the floor tiles.

“That’s it. You’re cut off,” the bartender sighed. “Move along, or go home.”

Chellick sloshed around on the chair, to face the lounge instead. Home, Venari waited with yet another lecture, no doubt.

At one of the window tables, he caught sight of a familiar face, even though the last time he’d seen the human, it had been naked. Dmitri. He was sitting there with his asari girlfriend, smiling and having a good time. That asshole. Chellick dragged himself up and made his unsteady way over to their table.

“You,” he said with a slurring voice, pointing an accusing talon. “You sit here, grinning like an idiot while Jane is gone.”

“If it isn’t Decian Chellick. Why don’t you sit down, Decian,” Eriela said and moved one chair over.

“I’m fine,” Chellick said. “Well? Got nothing to say? Or is she so easy to forget?”

Dmitri’s face had gone ashen, and he stood up from his chair with neck muscles bulging and a deadly glare.

“Dmitri, beloved, don’t make a scene,” Eriela warned. “I quite like the music here. And the water.”

“This.. bird accuses me of not caring, but what has he done? Drinking? Moping? Nothing? Or all above?” Dmitri hissed. “You don’t get to come here and talk to me this way.”

“Bird?!” Chellick gasped. “Damn pyjak, why don’t you come over here and say that again!”

Dmitri clenched his fists, but Eriela was on her feet that same moment.  
“Enough! Both of you! Sit your ass down, Dmitri, and that goes for you too, Decian.”

Decian noted that she held her hand over her belly, and Dmitri followed his gaze.

“Eri, the baby..”

“Is fine, if not for the silly father she’s stuck with. Now sit down. We have an audience.”

The tree of them sat down, and Chellick felt like an idiot.

“I apologize, Eriela. I didn’t know...”

“I understand, Decian. It’s been difficult for all of us.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Chellick said with a glance at Dmitri.

“What do you know? Huh?” Dmitri said, face red with rage.

“Easy, now.”

“No, he needs to hear. Have you been bribing half of Alliance staff for news? Have you have announced bounty? Have you tried contacting shadow broker? No? Then fuck shut up!”

“I think you meant to say-..” Chellick began.

“I don’t care!” Dmitri shouted. “I use every means at disposal to find Jane, and you sit here and only drink? Stupid bird!”

“Dmitri, please stop using that language and calm down,” Eriela said and stroked his arm. “I know how you feel, but..”

“Yes, yes..” Dmitri emptied his drink and started pouring another from the bottle on his side the table.

“Decian, we’re doing all we can to find her.”

“Her body? The Alliance announced she was killed.”

Chellick refused to hope. He’d be crushed if there was nothing out there.

“Military moron,” Dmitri muttered, now on his third shot.

“Be nice, father of my child. Decian, we’ve found some discrepancies from the mission reports to the official findings. Nothing solid yet, but Dmitri is using his company contacts, and I.. I’ve reached out to my mother.”  
“Thank you,” Dmitri said and took Eriela’s hand. I know that was unpleasant.”

“Oh please. Not more unpleasant than you yelling on the omni-tool every day because no one has learned anything new yet.”

“I will find her,” Dmitri said. “I finally knock up girlfriend, and Jane runs away to escape duty as aunt? Not going to happen.”

“Knocked up?” Chellick looked stunned. “Did he hit you?”

“No, it’s a crude human euphemism of getting your mate pregnant.” She gave Dmitri a disapproving eyebrow lift. “One he promised not to use again.”

“Bun in oven? Up the duff?” Dmitri said with some of his customary humor.

“See? There he goes again,” Eriela chuckled. “I let it slide because of the situation with Jane.”

“Does Jane’s mother know?” Decian asked.

“The admiral got us the official reports, and Dmitri told her what he’s doing. She’s still hoping, as are we all.”

“No. Not all,” Decian said sadly. “The military would not lie about something like this.”

“Really?” Dmitri scoffed. “Turian Hierarchy never lies?”

“No.”

“That is lie. Big lie. You are either drunk or stupid.”

“Jane’s dead.” Chellick said, almost warbling.

“Jane is not dead, stupid b-.. Turian!”

Dmitri slammed his hand on the table.

“Say that one more time, and there will be dead turian!”

“Darling, relax,” Eriela said. “Perhaps we should change the subject. We’ve done all we can for now.”

“It’s all I think about,” Chellick said quietly. “I better go home. Got the academy tomorrow.”

He got up and slouched out of the Flux.

 

**Start of October**

Shepard had stabilized enough to be released from the chains, but the first few days had been hell for both her and her krogan friend. She’d mistaken Skogan again and again for Krakk, and tried to lunge at him, while he pressed into one of the corners to stay out of reach. Zaeed still refused to let any of them out of the cage, and while she could understand why, Shepard was tired over sharing a crap bucket with a damn krogan. It wasn’t any easier for him, as his shy nature made it difficult to ‘go’ in front of a female.

They’d asked Zaeed if they were close enough to send a distress call over a com buoy, but he always evaded the question. He did spend time with then in the hold, telling a lot of tall tales and bragging about his numerous adventures with asari commandos, which for some inexplicable reason always ended up as a long, sweaty romp between the sheets. Shepard contented herself to eye-rolling, but Skogan listened with rapt attention. Another loss to the lure of the azure. And despite all his assurances of no contact, Zaeed’s omni-tool pinged often. Shepard had been meaning to ask him in an underhanded way about that for days, when Zaeed got a new message and went almost white.

“Hey, you got her brazier unhooked, then what?” Skogan complained. “Don’t stop there.”

“Sorry, mate. I need to change course.”

“What? Why? Aren’t we going back to Alliance space?” Shepard got up and gripped the metal crossbar.

“Small detour, duckie. It’s my best lead in months.”

“Lead for what?” she called after him when he ran back to the cockpit.

“I like asari,” Skogan said. “Why aren’t humans blue?” he asked and gave her an appraising stare.

“So little krogans don’t burn their fingers,” Shepard said, narrowing her eyes. Getting the blue fever seemed to turn off any common sense in males.

“You think I could get an asari girlfriend?”

“Sure. We’ll go barhopping, I’ll help you look for one when we get back to the Citadel, how’s that?” she said, waiting for Zaeed to return.

“Yeah? Thank you.” Skogan smiled, then thought about something. “Uh, you’re strong for a human. Would you like a breeding request?”

Shepard nearly swallowed her tongue.

“Say again?”

“I mean, it’s normal for males and females on Tuchanka who do great things to get such requests. You fought well to save us, so I thought..” He paused, uncertain if he’d committed a cultural atrocity. Quite a high level of sensitivity for a krogan, Shepard realized.

“I don’t think my mate would approve, but thank you,” she grinned.

“Oh. Well. Uh, you can ask me anytime, if your mate is inadequate,” he offered.

Shepard was aware that she too was stepping into a cultural mine field, what with Skogan’s abuse by Krakk, the reassurance of virility, plus a whole host of other issues, and tried to play it safe.

“You’ll be on the top of my list,” she said.

“All right. Unless I have an asari then. According to Zaeed, some can be very jealous.”

“In that case, I would completely understand.”

Skogan smiled.

“You’re a good friend when you’re not trying to kill me.”

His comment reminded her of her early relationship with Garrus, and her smile became a little forced.

“I try to be.”

 

At that moment, Zaeed returned.

“Well, little jailbirds, we’re gonna have to take the longer way home. I need to make a stop at an old friend.”

“Who?” Skogan scratched his hump, a clear sign of annoyance.

“Some bloke named Tonn Actus. He’s got some information I need.”

“That’s a turian name,” Shepard said. “Pirate?”

“Profiteer, Shepard. Don’t be rude. At least not until we have what we came for.”

“Another slaver?”

“Tonn deals in mostly antiquities. Lately he’s been rumored to have expanded his operation, renting out some of his hideouts to credit-heavy companies who can’t conduct business on Noveria, for some reason.”

“And that’s why we’re going there? To get some deadly virus?”

“Don’t be so dramatic. We’re only there for information. Information I’ve waited years to get.”

Zaeed’s eyes glinted with a touch of madness. “Years!” he barked, before returning to the cockpit.

“There he goes again,” Shepard sighed. “We’ll be stuck in this ship forever.”

She let go of the crossbar, only to discover that the trembling in her hand were back.

“Shaking again? Come here.”

Skogan moved over on the little floor rug they shared, and she sunk down and put her hands on her knees.

“Lean back,” Skogan said as he turned sideways. They’d found the least knobbly side of his shell and plates she could lean on, and she sunk back, gratefully accepted the gesture.

“We’ll be free soon,” Skogan said. “They’ll fix you right up, you’ll see.”

“I hope so, buddy.” She closed her eyes, and the low rumbling of his breathing kept the whispers away.

 

**A week later  
**

“Hey! You two! Get up.”

The old mercenary stood outside the cage, still wearing that half-mad look.

“Time to earn your keep.”

“We’re not slaves, you said so yourselves,” Skogan said and checked the semi-conscious Shepard.

“Yeah? I bought and paid for ya,” Zaeed snapped and checked his armor.

“According to my counting, Shepard earned you about 927 000 credits, more than enough to pay the broker and have enough to restock,” Skogan said calmly. “We owe you nothing, and Jane is.. she shouldn’t fight.”

“Listen, krogan, unless I get the information I need, nobody’s getting out of here. So until you get her back on her feet, we’re staying put!”

Skogan studied the ticks and twitches on Zaeed’s face, and decided not to argue with the man.

“All right. Let me wake her gently. Don’t want an incident, do we?”

“Fine. 5 minutes,” Zaeed growled and stalked over to the gun cabinet.

“Jane? Jane?” Skogan gently shook her shoulder.

“Mmflflmm?”

“I know, but Zaeed needs our help.”

“Nhooo...” She rolled over and tried to block him out.

“Yes. How’s the void-sight today? Do you see anyone?”

Shepard rolled back and opened her eyes.

“No, I think I’m good.”

“Shaking?”

She lifted both hands up.

“Not right now.”

“Good. Zaeed, we’re almost ready.”

“Bloody brilliant. Listen, you two. I’m gonna give you guns, but if you think about shooting me in the head, forget about it, I’ve already tried that, can’t be done. Also, this ship will detonate if I die, so you better make sure that doesn’t happen. Whatever you do, don’t kill Tonn before I’ve talked to the bastard. I mean it!”

“Okay. I can’t shoot very well. Thought I might mention it,” Skogan said.

That made Zaeed stop and stare at him.

“You messin’ with me?”

“I’ll take care of him,” Shepard said. “I shoot very well. Give him a shotgun, can’t miss much with that.”

“As long as it’s not pointed at me.”

“This isn’t the deal we made back on Korlus,” Shepard said after Zaeed opened the cell door and handed over the rifle and shotgun.

“Your friend already tried that,” Zaeed said. “This was my original plan, you’re the side show. Move it!”

 

**Zaeed’s secret destination**

The shuttle had broken through the atmosphere without being intercepted, to Zaeed’s delight. Even though his Azure Hopes had no weaponry, nothing could’ve stopped the old merc from going planetside. While he was in the cockpit, Shepard had used the opportunity to do a quick check in the cargo bay, and she found at least three explosive devices poorly hidden around the room, and it was undoubtedly more of them. Zaeed held all the cards for now.

“I think we’re back in the Traverse,” Skogan said. “I sneaked a peek at the cockpit controls when he swooned over that old rifle.”

“Which means that we’re in range of those buoys,” Shepard said through gritted teeth. “Why doesn’t he call for aid.”

“Perhaps he needs our help,” Skogan said.

“You heard him, this was his plan all along, we’re just a bonus.”

 

As luck would have it, the atmosphere on the planet was breathable, even if it smelt like sulfur. Their ship landed half a click away from a lone structure below an overhand in the valley. It wouldn't have been her choice to land this near, but Zaeed was getting impatient.

“You two, follow me. He knows we’re coming, so no itchy trigger fingers before I say-..”

Above them, there was a roar of thrusters, and two large shuttle-crafts honed in on their position.

They both carried outboard machine guns on each door. The larger one had a small missile launcher grafted to its underbelly. The ships were purple, with gold asari lettering covering every available surface.

“It’s Aria’s ships! That greedy cunt wants everything, eh?” Zaeed almost foamed at the mouth.

“She’s not ruining this for me! Double time, run!”

The trio raced towards the structure, but the asari ships didn’t open fire. Shepard found that very suspicious. They were sitting ducks out here, after all. There was a crackle from a speaker, and a batarian voice blasted through the air.

“Massani, this is Bray. Give it up already, we know you have it.”

“Don’t listen, just run. That bitch is dangerous.” Zaeed shouted.

“What have you stolen now?” Shepard called back.

“Stealing is bad,” Skogan added between gasps of air. “I’m not used to running.”

At that time, the upper floor of the building released several hatches and rolled out three anti aircraft turrets.

“They better not be aiming at us, Zaeed!”

“We’re expected. Bray ain’t!”

The turrets opened fire, but instead of shooting back, the two shuttles evaded the incoming barrage and went low in the dale below.

“They’re coming in on foot now.”

“I know!” Zaeed barked. “Which is why we need to get Tonn, squeeze the truth out of him and get the hell outta here.”

“No argument from me on the _latter_ ,” Shepard muttered.

 

Sprinting in the last few meters, Shepard found it difficult to stop in time not to crash into the wall. Behind them, the doors slid shut, and some less than accommodating guards waved their rifles in the direction they wanted their guests to take.

“I see four, five, no, six guards on the lower level,” Shepard said out of old habit. “Three on top.”

“Shut it, Shepard. We’re not here to fight.”

“Then why are you here, Massani?” A large turian in full battle armor except for the helmet, sauntered in to meet them.

“Tonn Actus, old chum. How you been?”

“Fine, without Aria’s lackeys following you from Korlus. What does she want with you?”

“Who knows what the old hag wants. You should know, I heard you used to go plates deep in that nightmare.”

“Business and pleasure. Right now we aren’t speaking. I may or may not have procured some items of hers,” Tonn grinned.

The building shook when a small explosion was heard outside.

“That was one of the turrets,” a turian guard said after checking his omni-tool. “They’re using one of the shuttles, swerving from over to cover between the mountain tops.

“Smart,” Zaeed said.

“Whatever you think I have for you is going to be expensive,” Tonn said. “I was planning on using this facility for one of my clients, but now we might have to abandon ship.”

“I got credits,” Zaeed said.

“Good. Follow me.”

He led them through a long corridor with plaques and display cases. Some were open and empty, some were filled with artifacts ranging from salarian to asari. Even some prothean, if Shepard was not mistaken.

“Like my collection?” Tonn said proudly. “I’ve spent years on it.”

“I have no doubt,” Shepard said and eyed an old stone tablet from earth.

“We’re not here for that shit. Where is he?” Zaeed growled.

“Your old friend? You know, I just don’t know if I can reveal that,” Tonn said lazily. “You see, I need one of his new friends to carry my collection to the new safehouse. He just got rid of all his wares and hosed down the cargo hold.”

“Who’re you talking about? That wasn’t part of the deal?”

“Neither was bringing Aria’s goons to my door,” Tonn said and opened the door to a small hall. The first half was filled with krogan antiquities. One old battered armor caught Shepard’s eye, not for the quality, but for the clan mark on the shoulder. Urdnot.

“My new friend had some lab equipment he wanted to set up, but I think we must forgo all that. Those shuttles must be taken care of. Captain, are you here?”

“I heard the explosion. Calling the Ramlat over now.”

_Ramlat Dreams._

Shepard and Skogan stared ahead as the batarian captain sauntered in with a polite grin.

“Those ships got nothing on my-.. Don’t I know you?” he stopped and stared at Shepard.

“Yes you do,” she snarled and pounced on him.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Tonn yelled and pulled out a gun. Skogan roared and backhanded the turian in the face, sending him sprawling into his own collection of ancient weapons.

“What are ye doing?” Zaeed shouted. “I said no fighting.”

“I believe you said no shooting,” Skogan said and loomed over him. “That is captain Vorhess, one our generous captors.”

“This little piggy went to market.”

On the floor, Vorhess shrieked in pain as Shepard cut open one of his eyes.

“Your soul is never leaving this rotten corpse,” she said with an insane laughter. “And this little piggy went home.”

The batarians second eye was torn from his skull, and she held it up like a trophy. Behind her, Skogan snatched it from her and ate it.  
“Ugh, fuck! You’re disgusting,” Zaeed hissed, but instead of breaking up the torture, he walked over to Tonn.

“Hey, the roast beef piggy was the next one,” Shepard said with mad glee as Skogan crunched the eye.

“Wait! Wait! I can tell you things. I know where Krakk is!”

The captain was bleeding profusely from his face, but Shepard felt no remorse, only immense satisfaction. Skogan stood over the batarian, breathing heavily.

“Do you believe him, Skogan?”

“No, I don’t!”

“You’ll never find him without me,” Vorhess pleaded.

“Oh, we’ll find him. One day,” Shepard smiled.

“He’s too clever. Please, I know him.”

“I’ll take that chance,” Skogan growled. “Are you done with this filth?”

“I think I am,” Shepard said.

“Good!”

Skogan brought his enormous foot down on the batarians face, again and again and again until there was nothing but blood and brains and small pieces of skull all over the carpet.

While Skogan wiped his boot, there was another resounding explosion and the upper structure of the hall collapsed.

“That’s no shuttle,” Zaeed shouted. “That’s a fucking warship! They’re gonna bury us!”

 

**TVH Ravuna Pride, Four hours earlier**

“Garrus! Aius! Wake up!”

Strabo was standing between the two bunks, knocking on the metal frames.

“What do you want?” Aius tried to push his hand away.

“The Ravuna has picked up the trail of two Omega smuggler ships in this sector. We’re to pursue them to their destination, then take out the entire operation.”

“Finally, some action,” Aius grinned and climbed out out of the bunk. “You hear that, Garrus. We get to shoot stuff.”

“Sure. Great,” Garrus said with a blank face.

“Hey, it’s good you got something to keep your mind occupied,” Strabo said. “I asked for you on this mission, thought you needed it.”

“Ooh, listen to the sergeant,” Aius smiled. “You just like giving orders.”

“I do,” Strabo grinned. “Get your butt moving.”

Aius pulled his undersuit on and went straight for the armory.

Garrus sighed and sat up. “I’m coming, I just..”

“Hey, I know. We all feel that way. But we’re going to kill some pirates, and that’ll make the galaxy a safer place, like she did.”

“She died.”

“Do you think she’d like seeing you like this? Moping and whining? No, she’d smack some sense into your crest. Listen, it’ll be an easy mission. We’ll bombard from orbit, then go in with two search and destroy-teams and clean up the leftovers, if there are any. I doubt that, but we might get lucky.

“Pirates and criminals,” Garrus said emphatically. “They killed her. We should kill them. All of them.”

“Attaboy. Let’s get fitted and kitted. Mevia is already geared up.”

Garrus didn’t listen.

“Leave none alive,” he muttered, and Strabo wondered if he’d done the right thing, taking his friend along for the mission.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No more cliffhangers, she said. Smooth sailing, she said. (Praise Tzeentch, Changer of Ways)  
> Will any of them survive the onslaught of the Ravuna? Will Garrus end up shooting Jane or her friends? Who knows.. 
> 
> Since I've been stuck at home for days, I had more time to write, so here ya go, a second chapter for the week. I'm so nice, I amaze myself. Now, if I could get my swollen head through the door.... XD


	54. Burning down the house

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road trip with Zaeed comes to an end, but what follows?

**Tonn Actus’ warehouse - The present**

“Are you done mutilating corpses?” Zaeed barked. “We need to move!”

Another massive explosion shook the entire compound and more debris fell from the opened ceiling.

“Right! Just a minute,” Shepard said and stared at the remains of Vorhess. It was a disgusting mess, but she still felt nothing but joy. She knew, however, that she should be disturbed by her own actions, or at least her willingness to commit them.

Skogan poked her in the shoulder. “Shepard, we should go.”

“Right, right! That’s right. We should. Right. ”

A burning beam crashed down on the floor not two meters away, hurling up concrete dust and cinders.

“I need to get something.”

Shepard checked the surroundings, and saw what she needed half covered by the dead batarian.

“Skogan, lift him up. I need that bag.”

“It’s covered by-..”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Please.”

“Knock it off you weirdos! We need to move!” Zaeed was already climbing up the collapsed wall.

“Just a minute I said!” Shepard shrieked. Even if the building was caving in around her, she needed to do this one decent thing to remind her she still was connected to her old self.

Skogan pulled the corpse up from the floor, and Shepard liberated the bag. The top of the bag was stained by mushy brain matter. She wiped some of it on Vorhess’ pants.

“I need to get that armor.”

“What armor? This building is falling down. We need to follow Zaeed.”

The old mercenary was almost at the top now.

“I need to get this for a friend!”

She ran over to the display and tore out the protective case, then stuffing the old broken armor in the bag.

“You have other krogan friends?” Skogan said, observing her manic packing. “Unusual.”

“Very! We can leave now.” She slung the bag over her shoulder and ran after Zaeed, who’d already managed to get outside.

Another large blast shook the building, and the wall toppled inwardly.

“Look out!” Skogan grabbed Shepard and covered her with his body as the structure came down on top of them.

 

* * *

 

“You see movement?”

“Negative.”

Strabo motioned his team to move forward, and Garrus marched onward with his rifle firmly in hand. They’d taken care of a small band of mercs trying to escape and damaged the Omega shuttles, but the Ravuna had disengaged from covering them after being attacked by a large batarian ship. That had provided the smaller shuttles an opportunity to make a run for it, and the ground teams had no means of pursuing. New orders came down from the Ravuna to continue sweeping the valley, if possible taking prisoners to interrogate before it charged after the batarian ship. Garrus had no such intention of leaving anyone alive. These people needed to die.

Strabo’s radio buzzed. “Team Two, this is team One, do you copy?”

“This is team Two, what’s your status?”

“We got movement in the compound. One turret on the south-east corner is still live, firing randomly at anything in sight. We got a human male in yellow armor running north-east towards the overhang, we think there might be a vehicle or shuttle there.”

“Copy that, we’re on it.” Strabo signaled for a halt. “You heard, we’re going to intercept that man, and-..”

“Team Two, delay that! We have a serious problem!”

“Status report?” Strabo tried not to look alarmed, but they’d all heard the stressed subvocals of One’s leader.

“There’s heavy biotic activity in the compound. Debris is being thrown everywhere! Requesting assistance!”

“We’re on our way.” Strabo looked at Mevia. “On point, get us there now!”

“Yes, sir!” Mevia activated her heat-seeking visor and lead the team in a hurried march to team One’s position.

 

* * *

 

When Shepard opened her eyes, she sensed and smelt warm blood trickling down her face. The sharp stinging pain in her shoulder made her roll her head in that direction. A small iron rod were lodged in her shoulder. On top of her, Skogan laid unconscious. His weight combined with the wall on top of them made it very difficult to breathe. She also saw there was a fracture in his shell, lining as far back as her vision reached. Miraculously, there was no rupture, but unless those pieces were removed, there would only be a matter of time. The dust and ash from the collapse floated down and settled in her face and stuck in her throat.

“ _Quite the predicament,”_ Vyrnnus said.

“Nooo.. no, not now. Not now,” Shepard whimpered. “Not with Skogan here.”

“ _To late for that weakling.”_ Vyrnnus voice came from every nook and cranny around her, echoing in the burning ruins.

The flickering returned, and Shepard saw Zaeed go over the wall.

“ _He abandoned you,”_ Vyrnnus whispered.

“Not listening.”

The wall came down and Skogan covered her with his body.

“ _He stopped you from getting out.”_

“He saved me, you fucking bird!”

“ _Saved? Looks like you’re bleeding to death, little shepherd. Who watches the lambs now.”_

“Fuck you!”

“ _You killed Skogan.”_

“No!”

Shepard couldn’t discern who was laughing, Vyrnnus or her, but the present slipped away from her and the shadow world beyond emerged.

  _She had to escape._ Enemies were fast approaching, she could hear them from outside. Her undamaged hand lifted up and she focused on the crumpled piece of ceiling swinging dangerously from its rebars. One blast, and the heavy detritus flew up and away. Next was the pieces of the toppled wall. The dark rage that fueled her powers made her ignore how her exhausted body protested against this misuse, and the rubble cleared in quick succession, swerving high over the opening in the roof. The krogan on top of her looked dead. She pushed it aside with a flick of her hand. A bag caught on a protruding plank, and she unhooked it carelessly. She didn’t know what was in the bag, but the strap was pierced by the rod pinned in her shoulder. It wasn’t that heavy, and therefore unimportant. There were enemies outside. She had to kill them. All of them.

 

* * *

 

Mevia had led them to a small overlook above the now destroyed building, and Strabo nodded to Garrus. Whatever came out of that debris field, if it was threatening, it had to be killed. Team One had fanned out in front of the hole in the building, taking cover behind whatever they could find. Their team-leader was shouting orders to whomever was climbing out. Garrus laid down and unfolded the bipod, taking careful aim at the figure stumbling between the rubble. It was a wreck of a human. With those ragged, filthy clothes and the hunched lurching gait it was hard to see if it was male or female. For some reason, it had shaved the backside of its head, while leaving the hair in front around ear height, most of it covering its eyes. No features were discernible in all that caking of blood and grime anyway, and it was not responding to orders. Team One was still trying to make contact, while keeping out of reach for the sporadically firing turret.

“It might not be advisable to let it live,” Garrus said and took aim.

“You know Sandar Victus would never disobey his uncle,” Mevia said. “They want someone to interrogate.”

“We can easily intercept the escaped male once I put this one down,” Garrus said, aiming at the lurching humans head.

“Maybe it’s for the better. It doesn’t look like cooperating. You got it, Garrus?”

“Yeah, I got it.”

“Take the shot.”

The human in his scope swayed its head from side to side, taking in all the members of team One it could find. It really couldn’t hope to take out all of them, surely? Garrus inhaled, took aim and.. trembled. His hand actually shook. He pulled away from the scope and blinked.

“What’s wrong?” Strabo stared at him.

“Nothing. Smoke from the ruins, is all.”

Again, he aimed at the human. This time he couldn’t get a clear view from all the wavering of the scope. What the actual fuck was this? He never hesitated.

“Can’t take the shot? Want me to do it?” Mevia volunteered.

“I got this!” Garrus hissed.

He refocused, and inhaled, waited, exhaled and.. squeezed. The shot rang out, but Garrus knew in that same moment he’d screwed up. He’d veered a tiny fraction off target, and the bullet missed the head and instead grazed the human in the shoulder. It had been deliberate, but he couldn’t fathom why he did something so idiotic.

“Garrus, what.. what happened? You never miss.” Strabo was stunned. So was the rest of his team.

“Look out, the human is shielding!”

The injured human lurched around in the direction of the shot, while setting off an immensely powerful barrier in front of itself.

“All hands, prepare to fire,” Sandar Victus announced on the radio.

“What’s _that?”_ Mevia gasped.

From the ruins, a soot-covered, injured krogan partly hopped, part ran up to the human from behind and delivered a solid blow to the side of its head. The barrier disappeared instantly. Before the human could hit the ground, the krogan had snatched it up in his short arms and held it as best he could.

“We give up! Don’t fire!” he shouted.

Strabo glanced ad Mevia and Garrus.

“Well, that was.. unexpected,” Strabo said. “Both that crazy krogan and your miss. At least we have two prisoners now.”

“Three, if we catch the escapee.” Mevia grinned.  
“Right. Garrus, are you all right? Can you keep up?”

Garrus got up and secured his rifle. He had to force his mandibles from clicking nervously. Something was wrong with him, but to let anyone see it would land him in weeks of psyche evals, and he did not want that in his records.

“I’m all right. Must’ve been the smoke. Let’s get that runaway.”

Team Two headed north-east while team One secured the prisoners.

 

* * *

 

The unfamiliar hop and swing motion that made her head knock against something hard, also brought her back to her senses. One side of her face was swollen and painful, like her shoulder. Shepard found herself being carried in Skogan’s arms up a ramp, leading inside an alien ship. The design was turian, but that meant nothing. It could be mercenaries with a commandeered ship, or it could be a repaired junker. The least likely option was the turian fleet, she thought, but was proven wrong when a turian with lieutenant insignia came to meet them.

He cast one glance at them,

“Med-bay. Keep weapons on them at all times until we know who they are.”

Skogan followed their armed escort, and when Shepard tried to wiggle out his arms, he chided her.

“Lay still, human. You’re still bleeding.”

“I can walk, no need for you to carry me. I know you’re injured too.”

“Don’t make me smack you again.” He flashed an impressive row of white teeth.

“That was you? Bastard,” she chuckled weakly.

“My thanks for removing the wall without killing me.”

“No problem.”

Shepard had trouble staying awake, and Skogan shook his head.

“I can walk...” he mimicked.

“Stupid krogan.”

“Stupid human.”

“Hey, no talking under transport!” one of the guards snapped. “Doctor, these are all yours. No weapons on them.”

“I should hope so,” the turian doctor said. He was an elderly turian with molting dark gray plates and blue colony marks . “Remove yourselves to the corridor.”

“The lieutenant said..” the guard began.

“I am the primarch in the medical bay. If the lieutenant has a complaint, he can take it up with the captain.”

Shepard got the distinct impression that this was a speech the old doctor had given numerous times before.”  
“These two are former slaves. They are not armed. They will not try and harm me. Will you?” He looked at them.

“No, sir,” Shepard said.

Skogan put her down on a bench. “Me neither. My shell is hurting like hell.”

“There. You see? You’ll be right outside the door if they change their minds.”

“But, I.. All right,” the guard said. “Come, Teson. Let the doctor have his curious ways.”

When the door shut behind them,” the doctor flared his mandibles. “I know how it feels, being examined in front of an audience. I’m doctor Rufus Florens. Let’s start with you, then.”

He picked up a pair of scissors and cut the straps off the bag that was stuck on Shepard’s shoulder. It fell down with a clank.

“Whoops. Mind if I ask what’s inside? Not some insidious murder weapon, I hope?”

“No, it’s.. it’s and old krogan armor. The turian who owned that place is a collector.”

“And you wanted the family heirloom back?” the turian said in Skogan’s direction.

“Something like that,” Skogan said. “It might be better if you give her some pain killers, doctor. Never know what might happen if she hurts much longer.”

Shepard understood what he alluded to, and nodded. “Yes, please.”

“If you want.” The doctor picked up a syringe and stuck Shepard’s arm. A small pinprick would not send her on another rampage, or so she hoped. She saw Skogan tense for a moment, then relax when nothing happened.

“I’m surprised you’re still able to speak,” the old turian said amicably. “Normally, those shaved heads means chipped.”

Something blinked in the edge of Shepard’s memory. Turian interrogation techniques for aliens, in the second class meeting, jokingly referred to as the old ‘ good cop, bad cop’ routine.

_Establish a friendly rapport,_ _be_ _helpful, seemingly harmless,_ _an_ _authority figure with_ _authority_ _problems._ That was a turian oxymoron. The doctor as fishing for information. Shepard doubted they’d kill an Alliance soldier, but there was no more reason to be more forthcoming than she needed to be. And then there was the curse of her name. She would not be popular among the turian crew.

“They were going to, but the man who bought me forbade it,” she admitted. “I used to be a fighter. Before that, I was Jane Basanov.”

The doctor used a forceps to pull the rod from her shoulder, and Shepard was almost dragged from the bench. Skogan immediately came to her assistance and pushed her back in position. When the doctor turned away to dispose of the metal bar, she pointed at the bag. Skogan picked it up and handed it to her.

“Just let me check for splinters.” Rufus held a small instrument over the wound. “Looks like it was all of it. You’re lucky. Those small pieces can be a bitch to get out. I’ll also put some gel on that gunshot wound. ”

“I got shot and didn’t notice,” Shepard murmured. She tried to ignore the sickening smell of blood.

“Let’s get some medigel in there. Let it dry up, and I’ll have someone stop by and put on a bandage. Any other injuries I should be aware of, Jane Basanov?”

“My ear,” Shepard said and pushed away the tuft of hair that covered it. “It might be going septic.” She pulled back what was left of her hair.

“Oh, that’s.. That must’ve hurt,” the turian said, twitching his mandibles in anger. “Who did that?”

“Some slave trading krogan,” Shepard said. “Arlas Krakk.”

“Haven’t heard of him,” Rufus said. “But there’s so many out there. The stub is mostly healed, but there’s a small flap hanging on the side that’s dead. Want me to remove it? It can’t be sewn back, regrettably.”

“Do it,” Shepard said with a resigned sigh.

The turian picked up a pair of scissors, and Shepard heard a small ‘snip’. Doctor Rufus showed her the little dark flesh strip before dropping it in a medical waste bin.

“I think that was all with you. Your friend there will need an X-ray, I’m afraid. Can I trust you to sit tight and not wander off?” the doctor said jovially.

Because she had expected it, she also saw the glint of shrewd calculation in his eyes. Shepard nodded. There was little to gain from making trouble here. She would be handed over to the Alliance, and safety. And with relative safety can other unwanted insights. Very little could keep her in the army at this point. She’ d become completely unstable.

When the doctor left, Shepard picked up a pair of scissors and stared at her face in a mirror. There was little to be done with the scar and the ear, but she could at least do something with that ‘chipped’ look.

The cutting went relatively easy, even if the hair was uneven in places. The important thing was that it was roughly of equal length all over, and it would be a long, _long_ time before she ever wore shoulder length hair again, even if she had little time left of her service. She still recalled Krakk’s grip as he sliced her ear. When she was no longer focused on her hair, she saw something else; The empty stare of person looking back at her in the mirror. It was a thin, damaged and haunted version of the woman she remembered in her mind’s eye. The hair, the swelling of the side of her face where Skogan hit her, the mangled ear and the scar was all bad, but the eyes had a bloodshot hateful glare. Shepard turned her back to the mirror image and refused to think closely about it.

 

On a whim, she opened the bag to look at the Urdnot armor. Wrex had made her draw krogan clan markings over and over when she was a child, especially when he was trying to look at his porn collection in secret whenever Wreav ran late for his shift.

The armor was old, and had two perforations in the chest plate. Shepard measured with her fingers, and it looked like the distance between two krogan hearts. Whomever wore this, met a grisly end. Like the bag’s owner, Shepard thought and absentmindedly rummaged her hand inside. Her fingers closed on a known shape, and she pulled out a datapad. Captain Vorhess’ secret orders? Shepard tried opening it. A batarian encryption screen appeared. Damn. It just _had_ to be password protected, what else. She tapped her fingers on her thigh. Batarian captain. Slaver. Not really the reading type. Man of action. Man of habit? He liked fucking slaves, making money. What else? He did not like getting his eyes pulled from his skull, that was certain, Shepard mused. No, no, back to the pad. What did a captain like? She knew next to nothing about the man, but maybe.. Just maybe.. She typed in a name. The red error message flashed in the display. Damned again. What did every idiot use as a password? She typed the name again and added the numbers. The screen flashed yellow, and the content manager opened. _RamlatDreams1234._ Shepard shook her head. Really, some people...

The datapad contained batarian research notes, and while she spoke and read Khar’sanos pretty good, this was technical and far beyond her N-level course. What she could gleam from the text, was the subject. Genetic compatibility between turian and batarians, and organ transplants. She flicked forward past the medical jargon and failed experiments, until she found the final subjects. It was a 3D mock-up of a surgery. Attending surgeon: Saleon. The patients were a three-eyed batarian, and the donor was.. Whoa! The next image startled her. She knew that face. She’d heard that ingratiating voice accompanied by clicks. Shepard stared at the wall. What had Tonn said? Lab equipment? This site was supposed to be the place for the operation. Shepard closed the medical files and opened one that said “Procurement.” It had possible dates and places for extraction, but no names. Not that she needed them. She knew the target. And he’d owe her a favor after this. _If_ she kept this datapad to herself. Shepard entered the administrators file and changed the password to a long passage from Hamlet, interspersed with numbers. That dreadful elcor play Dmitri sent her turned out to be useful after all. She had just swiped the lock on the datapad when a black-plated turian entered.

“Hi, I was supposed to change your bandage?”

Shepard stared and burst out before she could stop herself; “Castor?!”

“Shepard?!”

 

* * *

 

“And are you sure?” Captain Adrian Victus stared at his young medic.

“Absolutely. That is Jane Shepard, daughter of the admiral Shepard. She was presumed dead not long ago.”

“How are you so sure?”

“She was my squad leader when I was on Jump Zero, sir.”

“But you wasn’t sure when you first saw her?”

“Sir, I.. She looks harrowed and is rather dirty.”

“Hmm..” Captain Victus paced around the room. “Private, you are not to repeat what you know to anyone.”

“But sir, she has friends here, and-..”

“Anyone! Is that clear?”

Castor looked down.

“Yessir.”

“I can’t even imagine the repercussions if something happened to the admiral’s daughter on my ship. If we saved her only to cause her death..”

“Sir?”

“I hope none under my command would do something like that, but with the admiral’s own blood.. One never knows. Who did she say she was?” Victus said to the old doctor.

“Jane Basanov.”

“Looks like she thought the same,” Victus said, smiling a humorless smile. “Still, I want that pad you saw her reading. It might have information on those slavers.”

 

* * *

 

Captain Victus was unsure of what to expect when he entered the small room where they had relocated Shepard, but he certainly hadn’t expected a friendly smile.

“So, you’re private Jane Shepard,” he said.

“And you’re captain Adrian Victus. Nice to meet you, sir.”

Victus hesitated. He sensed a trap, but how could that be? He held every advantage. He was the master of this ship, and she was a beaten up, half-eared human.

“My soldiers took that old human to his ship before we detonated it. He said he had some secret information to give us. Instead, he tried to sneak out a box of personal belongings. This data crystal was found in the container. Do you know what’s on it?”

“No. Should I?”

“It contains,” Victus continued unperturbed, “the most extensive collection of Admiral Shepard porn I have ever seen.”

Shepard merely raised an eyebrow. “Seen a lot then, have you?”

Adrian Victus spluttered and clamped his mandibles to his face. Enough of this. Vile human.

“I want you to hand over that datapad you read earlier. Don’t bother denying it,” he said brusquely. No need to play around with the human.

“No,” she said with the same friendly smile

“I don’t know how you run your fleet, Shepard, but in the Hierarchy soldiers obey their officers.”

“Good for me that I’m no longer in the military, sir. I’m KIA. Until that status is rescinded, I don’t take orders from anyone.”

“Don’t play games with me, Shepard. Nobody knows you’re here, and it could remain that way.”

The human looked tired, but was ever so polite when she spoke.

“Dear me, and here I thought this was a rescue, not a kidnapping. Are you going to kill Castor too, just to keep it a secret?”

“Shepard, I’ll count to three, and then-..”

“This is a very nice ship, captain. Such a shame if you were to lose it.”

That brought him out of his equilibrium.

“What? Don’t fuck around with me, human, you don’t have the power to-..”

“And I hear Invictus is so beautiful this time of the season. Second winter, I believe they call it?”

“That's... I want that information, and it looks like I have to take it!” Victus growled. “Guards!”

“The information belongs to my employer,” Shepard said smoothly as the guards marched in. “Perhaps you know him? Barefaced, silver plates, two side spikes? Clicks when he speaks?”

Victus thrummed, and the guards stopped.

“It can’t be..”

“Yup. He can get rather upset if other turians steals his stuff.”

“You don’t know Saren Arterius,” Victus said with disbelief. “We all know your family history.”

“Call the Infiltrator, and tell him I have the information he wanted and that I want to speak with him . Now, if I’m lying, and you’re right, you can take the datapad without further ado. If I’m right.. I just saved your life.”

Shepard smiled, a cold calculating smile, and for a moment, Victus believed she knew Saren. This was just like he would act, but no. There was no possibility of this carrying a grain of truth. She was clan Shepard, and he was clan Arterius. Still, no harm in contacting the Spectre. He wouldn’t risk the Ravuna or Invictus for all the azure on Thessia.

 

* * *

 

Shepard was ushered into a cell next to the galaxy's’ greatest purveyor of Shepard porn. Zaeed was livid. Not only was his ship gone, his porn was gone, and the lead he’d punched out of Tonn wasted as long as he was stuck in this hellhole.

“Here she is, queen of Sheba. Imagine if you’d only followed me when I told ya, we would’ve been outta there in time.”

“Maybe,” Shepard said. “Or maybe the Ramlat Dream or captain Victus would have blown us out of the sky. It’s all hypothetical, really.”

Zaeed grumbled and crossed his arms.

“Where’s your buddy?”

“In for x-rays. His shell got cracked.”

“If you only-...”

“Don’t antagonize me in here, old man,” Shepard sighed. “The captain just informed me of your porn collection, and we’re in a small closed room with no escape. Got it?”

To her surprise, Zaeed chuckled. “Got it.”

“Hey, you’ve been around, know any famous three-eyes batarians?”

“You’ve got to be joking? Ever heard of Solem Dal’Serah? Leader of the Blue Suns. Saren Arterius took out one of his eyes in a particularly vicious hand to hand fight. Solem’s been obsessed with revenge ever since.”

Shepard smiled and leaned back resting her eyes. She’d been right. The datapad was gold, and she intended to make Saren pay for every goddamn morsel of information on it. Victus may have had his reservations, but she harbored no doubts. The Spectre would answer her summons.

 

**2176 CE – October 12 _th_ – Ravuna Mess Hall – 18:18 PM**

“Hey, what’s with the constipated look, Castor?” Nirea said and nudged the medic.

“Nothing,” Castor said and stared into his paste.

Next to him, Garrus started to wriggle. It was bad enough that he’d just shot a full ten out of ten in the gun range without problem, but he had no explanation for why he did fine up here and not in the field. And now Castor annoyed him to no end. His entire being made his plates itch.

“What’s the matter with you today, Garrus? First you miss that human in the field, and now you jump around like a quarian with a flea in his suit,” Mevia cackled as Garrus scraped his cowl on the seat of his chair.

“Garrus almost shot the human?!” Castor stared at them.

“Yeah, he did. Missed the head and hit the shoulder. Shameful,” Mevia said.

“Like you would’ve even hit that krogan,” Garrus said and scratched his plates desperately. “Castor, what on Palaven have you been in contact with? It’s like my plates wants to wilt from my hide.” He got his feet.

“Just some patients.”

“The human, more like it. Tell me, was it a female or male? We couldn’t tell from all the blood and dust.”

“It was a female,” Castor said, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

“Why are you acting weird?” Nirea said. “Strabo, isn’t he acting weird?”

“He is,” Strabo said. “And so is Garrus.”

Garrus was now hopping around on one foot, trying to reach the back of his cowl.

“For spirits sake, I don’t need you to make a scene in front of all the females,” Aius sighed and reached up to rub Garrus’ cowl. He sighed with relief. The brief release felt like coming home.

“Did you know the female?” Nirea continued. “Since you’re acting like a total git.”

Castor shrugged noncommittally, and the rest of Four returned their attention to their dinner.

“We all do,” he said under his breath, but Garrus caught in a calm moment of itch . A cacophony of blaring horns went off in his head. Castor’s behavior. The human he missed on purpose. The shaking. Itching when he was near the ruins, and the human, and Castor. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t! The evidence was circumstantial, at best. And yet.. His heart did the summation his brain would not.

“Castor...”

“What?”

“Castor..”

Castor jerked his head up and stared at Garrus. “No!”

“You’re lying...”

“No I’m not!”

“You’re LYING!”

Garrus pulled Castor up from his seat and slammed him into the food counter, making it tilt heavily to one side.

“LIAR!”

“I can’t tell you!”

“Where is she?!”

“I can’t tell you..”

“WHERE IS SHE?!”

“That’s enough, Vakarian! Release him!” Strabo yelled.

Garrus dropped Castor and he fell to the floor, the counter swung back and toppled over, spilling foodstuffs over the downed turian, but Garrus was already on his way to the holding cells.

She was here, on his ship. _Somehow_ , _Jane was alive!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written for a shaky-cam, it jumped around so much. Another very early chapter, because the Queen of Evil (my boss) wants overtime through the week. :) The money is alright, but come ooon.. I don't want to go outside anymore, it's the beginning of a winter that's going to last until mid may next year. (Probably long into June, like this year. Spring? What's that? You mean you have more than two seasons of the year? (Winter and slightly less cold.)
> 
> And of course Castor couldn't keep his trap shut. He's not dating Ravarn for nothing :)


	55. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard has kept her cool so far, but what happens when she meets a friend?

**A little earlier**

**2176 CE – October 12 th – Ravuna Holding Cells – 17:35 PM**

The turian guard who’d been escorting her everywhere came back and motioned Shepard to get up.

Next cell down, Zaeed’s creaky knees complained as he rose from his bunk.

“Hey you! Tell your boss I want that damn rifle back. If one of you spike-headed morons have hurt Jenny...”

The guard looked puzzled. “You’re Jenny?” he asked Shepard .

“No, that’s the name of the rifle,” she said, hiding a smile.

“Your friend is weird.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

She readjusted her arm sling before the guard took her to a small conference room in the middle of the ship. Captain Victus had arranged the larger screen to be ready for the up-link, and he was standing in front of the control panel with a reserved expression.

“I’ve made contact with the Infiltrator,” he said. “The Spectre has agreed to a brief conversation.”

This was the make or break moment, Shepard knew. Either Saren would agree to exchange the information, or she would be permanently screwed. Perhaps ending up as a litter-picker on some distant planet.

Victus pressed the panel to receive the incoming call, and the image on the screen distorted and fluctuated for a minute, before the incoming image stabilized on a silver turian. Saren.

“Greetings, Adrian. Been a while,” Saren said politely. “How’s the mate?”

“She’s fine,” Victus said through clamped mandibles. “So is my son. No thanks to you.”

“Now, now, no need to be rude in front of the human. How are you, Shepard? I see you’ve lost some small part of your extremities?”

Shepard stopped herself from grabbing at her ear.

Instead she said; “An ear, a pair of mandibles, you know how these things go when you’re out and about.”

Victus gasped, but Saren merely laughed.

“Indeed. Now Adrian, not that I don’t love seeing you again, but I have matters to discuss with my.. ahem.. employee. Would you be so kind as to leave us? I’ll be sure to call you back if something incredibly dull happens.”

“This is my ship,” Victus protested.

“And such a nice ship it is,” Saren said. “Shame if circumstances were to change.”

The captain exchanged angry glares between Saren and Shepard, and she knew what he was thinking. That was almost the same thing she’d said earlier.

“Curse your hide, Arterius.”

Victus clicked furiously with his mandibles, but he nevertheless left the room. Saren turned his attention to her.

“Well, Shepard? You have my attention, but my patience is short.”

The game was on, and he was inviting her to play.

“During my, ah, travels, I came across some rather interesting and valuable information,” she said.

“To you, maybe.” Saren crossed his talons in front of his face and looked bored.

“Right. Regarding planned abductions of a certain Spectre.”

“There are always plans to have me killed, Shepard. Don’t make me cut the link.”

Shepard knew he was doing this on purpose, but she feared she’d overreached. Still, nowhere to go but forward.

“Does all of them include organ theft and a doctor Saleon?”

That was it. The moment when a spinning coin turns for the last time before falling down with your call up. For an outsider, the reaction might’ve been impossible to spot. It was merely a minor tensing of the shoulders and a double blink, but Shepard knew how to read tells. Saren Arterius was actually surprised.

“It may, or may not have some value. I might consider offer some monetary recompense for its retrieval,” he said neutrally.

“I’m sure you could,” Shepard said with equal neutrality. “Too bad that’s not my price.”

“You are aware that I could ask captain Victus to take this information from you?”

Shepard clenched the fist inside the sling. Time to bluff on a bad hand.

“Yes, and the moment they try and hack it, the miniature incendiary safety mechanism will set off, causing the information to be permanently lost. Batarians are sneaky that way.”

“Interesting. How did you acquire said password?”

Saren tried to call, but Shepard raised the stakes.

“It’s amazing what a batarian will tell you when you’ve ripped out one of his eyes and dangles it in front of him.”

That caused Saren to clamp his mandibles to his face, his shoulders started shaking, and finally he burst out laughing, slapping his hand on the desk.

“You are a sadistic bastard, Shepard. Knew there was a reason I liked you.”

“I doubt that very much.”

“So what’s the prize? For the very unbreakable password for this exploding device.” His tone implied that he knew she was probably bluffing, but couldn’t afford to go all in.

“That thing you had Sha’ira do for me..”

“You want a repeat? Done.”

“No! It’s gone too far for that. I want cabalite training.”

“Getting unstable, Shepard? I can’t do that. Getting a turian assassin to work with you might be outside of my reach.”

It was Shepard's turn to call a bluff.

“I don’t give a shit of what you _might_ be able to do. Beg. Steal. Murder. Threaten. Blackmail. Offer sexual favors. Whatever needs getting done, but I either get that training, or the information goes up in a pile of smoke.”

“Or I might just order the captain to murder _you_.”

Shepard smiled.

“Then you better hope he kills me at first shot, because if I get as much as a scratch lately, I get a serious blackout. I survived weeks in a fighting pit, I think I can wreak enough havoc on board this ship to bring about critical mass.”

The turian and the human sized each other up and down for a long while. Saren made some notes on his omni-tool, but his calculating eyes darted over to her often. Shepard returned his earlier favor and pretended to be bored. When he hadn’t said a word for fully five minutes, she shrugged.

“Perhaps I’ll have more luck in my debrief with the Alliance.”

The insinuation made him stop gaming her.

“Wait, Shepard, hold a minute. This information, you’re willing to just hand it over to the enemy? Outside Alliance protocols?”

“What enemy?” Shepard said. “You’re a Spectre, you work for the Council, not the Hierarchy. And aren’t we all friends now? With a few notable exceptions. Humanity is even trying for a seat on that very Council.”

He was right, it was far outside protocol, but as far as she’d read, the information, while valuable, was no direct threat to the Alliance. It was a plot against Saren, and she would be willing to step outside the rules once if it meant staying in the army. Just this once.

“That particular ambition might stay just that, an ambition, for some time to come,” Saren said and twitched his mandibles. Shepard could hear the clicks and whirrs. After another minute of waiting, he leaned back in his seat.

“I may be able to arrange something. You’re probably going to be in convalescence a while, and that’s our window of opportunity. If you haven’t learned to control yourself by then, you will have to resign. That would be a terrible loss to your marines, I’m sure,” he smiled, “and a future loss for me.”  
“What do you mean, a future-..”

She was interrupted by a loud electrical crackle of a short-circuiting door panel, and someone started dragging the half-doors aside. More sparks flew from the wiring around said door while it was slowly pushed open. A lone silver turian pressed inside as soon as the opening was large enough. Shepard could do nothing but stare at him. It was Garrus!

 

* * *

 

It was a stroke of pure luck that made the turian guarding the holding cells absent. It was feeding time, and he was most likely away carrying food to the other detainees when Garrus arrived. Garrus carefully plucked the sign-in-pad from the desk and checked the roster. One male human prisoner and one turian recruit was still consigned to the cells, but a female human prisoner was signed out and taken to the upper floor conference room. He replaced the pad and continued to the elevator. Around the corner he could hear Strabo calling for him, but Strabo would never sneak a peek in the roster like he had. Strabo was a good turian. He took the elevator one floor. There was no guard directly stationed outside the conference room, but Garrus knew they would be patrolling the area frequently. The room was sound-proofed, and that made him worried. He knew his people sometimes practiced active interrogations, as they called it, and the conference room would be a perfect place to do it. The itch on his neck hide felt like a rash now. There was nothing for it, he had to get in. The hacking program in his omni-tool was powerful enough to hack the door, but this might have major consequences for his career and his future. Garrus hesitated until he heard footsteps in the corridor draw near. The footsteps stopped, and returned back the way they came. The lavatories are that way, Garrus thought. He’d been given one more chance.

His omni-tool easily plugged into the door, but he miscalculated the last algorithm in his haste and the door unlocked, but remained shut. He had to slide it open by force. Centimeter by centimeter he pulled the resisting metal open, and when he stepped inside, he saw her. Or, what used to be her. He took in her surprise, which was probably as great as his, but she recovered first and smiled widely.

“Garrus!”

Garrus couldn’t return the smile. He was horrified. Jane was gaunt and her hair was roughly shorn. She was covered in dirt and dried blood, and, from the general impression he got, filthy. The left side of her face was swollen where the krogan had struck her, but the right.. the right was far worse! A crude jagged, partially healed wound stretched from her temple down to her neck, and the ear.. The upper half of her ear was simply gone. Her arm left arm was in a sling, and he recalled with excruciating clarity the moment he shot her. He’d almost killed his friend, and that was only the most recent thing he’d done to her. Garrus had trouble getting his voice to work, only his subvocals oscillated his distress in a register she couldn’t hear, fluctuating between expressions of sympathy and regret, but she couldn’t understand him. He stared at her, trying to force his voice to say something, anything, but the moments flew past with no sound made. Garrus saw the smile die and fade from her face. She hadn’t expected to see him here, because to her, they were no longer friends. The truth of it made him feel a sting of actual physical pain in his chest.

“Vakarian,” she said and turned away.

That jolted him back to reality. This was not happening. He was not losing her to this.

“No! No, no, no, no, Jane.” He ran up beside her. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I should’ve read your messages, I should’ve written, I should’ve-..”

“It’s all right,” Jane said in a tired voice. “We all move on. I got the message from Castor, no need to sugarcoat things. Besides,” she said with a mirthless chuckle, “I have bigger problems than a wayward turian now.”

The words burned him, but he refused to step back. Jane was alive, and that was more important than a few snipes at him.

“Jane, I am sorry. Truly. I’ve wanted to make amends for months, but then you.. we heard you.. died.”

He almost started to warble, and had to stop to gain some semblance of control. Jane turned back to face him. She looked so small, all big gray eyes and no substance, and not only because he’d hit his last growth spurt and attained his full height. There was less of her. The haunted look in her eyes was also new. Garrus hated it.

“Jane...”

“Garrus, don’t..”

He reached out and touched the right side of her neck, just under the damaged ear. It appeared to be the place that hurt the least for her, and he gently tugged her towards him, lowering his forehead to meet hers.

“Please, Jane...”

She slowly allowed him to lead her into the touch. Again, he got the sensation of coming home, of being safe as soon as his forehead touched hers, and the itching vanished. It wasn’t normal for grown turians to do what he did next, but he couldn’t give a flying fuck anymore. He pulled her even closer and lifted her up, burying his face in her neck, not caring about the smell of blood and sweat. Jane was so light. He remembered the feeling of her body from their sparring. She wasn’t supposed to be this light, so thin. She couldn’t hear subvocals, but she could hear purrs, and Garrus purred his heart out to her. Her one free hand grabbed on to his cowl, and he heard a sniff and felt something wet against his neck.

“Private Vakarian, by the spirits of Palaven, what _are_ you doing?!”

Captain Victus had returned with a guard, the latter was standing outside the broken door.

“Revolting, isn’t it?” came a dry voice behind them.

Garrus put Jane down and craned his head around. A damn holo-screen. He’d completely missed it, and Saren Arterius was staring at them with a disapproving scowl.

“Private Vakarian, you’re under arrest! Breaking and entering, hacking, and that’s just off the top of my fringe. Other charges are possible, like espionage, attempted theft, destruction of fleet property! You’re a disgrace t-..”

“Ahem.”

The small cough caused ripples in the conference room, and everyone went silent. Jane discreetly wiped her eyes, but Saren didn’t miss a thing. He shook his head.

“Captain, I think I have a solution for everyone involved. Vakarian, while insubordinate and stupid, is not a spy. He’s a foolish young turian plagued by hormones and bonds he should not have. Shepard is carrying something of great value to me. I want her under guard at all times, but not in a cell. That would.. not be appreciated by the Alliance when we hand her over. Put her in one of the spare rooms, if you have one, and set this young dullard as her personal warden. She would not do anything to jeopardize his already diminished standing among his own. Right, Shepard?”

She cleared her throat twice before she managed a strained “Yes.”

“Good. Get out while I discuss matters with the captain.”

 

* * *

 

From his personal office on the Infiltrator, Saren observed with amusement how captain Victus resented the way private Vakarian obeyed his own orders without waiting for an affirmation from the true captain of the Ravuna. The young turian gave the Spectre a defiant stare through the holo-screen when he guided his new charge out, like he wanted to signal he wasn’t ashamed of his actions. Shepard herself kept her eyes to the ground, more aware of her friend’s precarious situation then he himself seemed to be, and was reluctant to cause Vakarian any more problems. Saren knew he’d made a good choice.

He idly scratched his fringe and awaited the eruption from Adrian Victus. He didn’t have to wait long.

“What the fuck was that!? You give orders on my ship now, Arterius?”

“When the matters revolve around the Council’s business, you know Spectres are allowed to assume control, by decree of the primarchs.”

“You say these matters revolve around Council business, I’ve seen no proof of that so far.”

“And neither will you, Victus. These are matters far above your tier. If you have a complaint, I’m sure Sparatus will be happy to receive you upon your return to the Citadel.”

“Sparatus,” Victus spat. “What good did that jumped up nitwit do me the last time?”

“None,” Saren smiled. “I expect a repeat of his last performance.”

“Vakarian needs to go,” Victus said. “I can’t have a sniper who’s bonded to a member of a hostile alien species.”

“I suspect his father might have objections to that,” Saren said helpfully. “Remember when admiral Shepard was last at the Citadel with her ship damaged? He refused her docking clearance.”

“That was entirely different,” Victus protested. “Everyone knows he hates that family.”

“And now you’re about to be added to his list. Imagine telling the Executor that his only son is bonded to the daughter of his greatest enemy. I would imagine you’d be behind admiral Shepard herself in line for clearance.”

“Spirits, this happens every time you show up,” Victus said. “My life gets much more complicated, and more often than not, worse.”

“I have a small suggestion, if I may?”

“As if I have any other choice?”

“There’s always a choice, Adrian, but today there is only one good option.”

“Very well, let me have it.”

“Recommend Vakarian for an early transfer to C-sec-academy. I happen to know his father wants the son to join him there as a career path.”

“That is unethical,” Victus said.

“Why?”

“Because.. because he’s fraternizing with the enemy!”

Saren sighed. Some turians really didn’t know what was best for them.

“Vakarian the younger has a battle bond with Shepard after the incident on Eden Prime. That is hardly fraternizing. While I find the whole affair rather distasteful, I’ve never received the impression that there’s some great collaboration going on between them. Do you have anything to remark on Vakarian’s conduct besides his unfortunate habit of hugging humans and hacking your ship codes? Quite easily, I might add. ”

“No, but I-..”

“Precisely. Get him transferred immediately, before you find anything. You’ll have the gratitude of the Executor, and the mild approval of a Spectre, instead of both of us being rather annoyed with you.”

Victus considered this for a moment, then thrummed his consent.

“Perhaps you are right. It would remove all the problems from the Ravuna.”

“Capitol.” The Spectre knew he’d won, but he couldn’t resist one last jab at the captain.

“You did mention Shepard came aboard with some companions? I would also recommend finding other accommodations for them. Never know who’s running with that odd little human.”

“This is not a pleasure cruiser,” Victus said. “It’s a ship of war.”

“A war is fought on many fronts, captain, and potential allies should not be wasted.”

“A krogan and an old mercenary?”

“You never know.” Saren flicked a mandible with an audible click. “I’ve fought alongside worse. Saren out.”

With a flick of the wrist he cut the connection. Victus would grumble, but find something marginally better quarters for Shepard's friends. One point for him, which he would not hesitate to remind her of, should the need arise. Saren circled one of his talons around the engraved family crest on the table. So Saleon was engaged by the Suns. This was better than they first feared, but it also meant he was no longer at the Citadel. Mordin would have to look elsewhere. A rogue geneticist of that caliber for sale to the highest bidder.. It could spell disaster to the galaxy, if he started working for the wrong people. Or species. If Mordin was right, and he usually was, the other salarian was as brilliant as he was ruthless and greedy. Saren really wanted to know what was on those files, but he could wait another week. Better to keep Shepard as a prospect, than burn every bridge by forcing the issue. She’d proven quite resilient, despite her debilitating condition. Speaking of which.. Saren opened his omni-tool and started scanning through the files for names. Who was currently available among his former pupils? Who was not dead? Who was-.. his talon stopped on a name he’d not thought about for quite some time.

Rolan Quarn. That smooth, slick and soft spoken con man would be a perfect match for Shepard. Too bad Rolan had developed a bad case of conscience, or so he called it. Saren himself called it damned convenient. The skills of an assassin was much better utilized ending the lives of murderers and gun smugglers instead of stealing from them, but nothing had helped with Rolan when he set his stubborn mind to something. Still, he owed Saren a favor. A big one. It was time to collect.

“Please call the CEO of Delumcore Systems, mister Jaxum Borlin. Tell him.. tell him it’s from an old friend.”

“Yes, Arterius,” the VI chimed.

 

**2176 CE – October 12 th – Ravuna Holding Cells – 21:36 PM**

“So I have to share a damn cot with a krogan? Fucking hell,” Zaeed cursed.

“Not a cot,” Strabo explained for the third time. “A guest cabin.”

“Why can’t I room with Shepard? The krogan snores!”

Skogan gave a low throaty chuckle. A long purple line of medical cement striped across his shell.

“Yes, I do.”

“You can’t share with Ja-.. Shepard, I’m her warden,” Garrus snapped.

“Whatever. I’m still collecting that bounty.”

Shepard and Skogan froze.

“What bounty?” Shepard demanded.

“Eh? Nothin’.”

“Skogan, slap the shit outta him,” Shepard commanded.

The krogan raised a bucket sized fist, and Zaeed ducked and hid behind Strabo.

“Ey, ey, ey! All right, all right! There’s this crazy russki on the Citadel, he’s promised pretty much a blank credit chit for whomever showed up with you still alive. Guy’s rolling in dough.”

“And you were looking for me?”

“Nah, not really. I was there for information, spotted your mug by accident. Good luck for the both of us, eh?”

“Good luck that you collect admiral porn,” Shepard said and shook her head. “Credits is everything to some people.”

“I’ll knock down my fee for a late night date with yer mum.”

“Spirits, he’s like the human version of Aius,” Strabo whispered to Shepard. She laughed, which devolved into a cough.

“Come on, Jane. I got some asari rations, we’ll call it a night,” Garrus said. “ Leave Strabo with the perv.”

“Oh, very nice, Vakarian,” Strabo called after him.

 

* * *

 

After entering the officer’s cabin, the relaxed atmosphere evaporated, and they were two estranged friends again. There was a larger turian bed on one side, and a smaller cot set up for Jane. There were a small couch in the corner with a tiny holo-screen on the wall. Garrus walked over to the couch and sat down. The awkward air was suffocating, but he had no idea where to start. Jane did a short inspection of the room before she walked over and sat down beside him.

“Uhm..” he began.

“Ah, I just..”

He pointed at the screen.“If you want to, we can..”

“If you really want to, sure.”

“No, I didn’t mean..”

“I want to get a shower,” she said.

“Yeah, I totally understand. Not that you smell or anything. Uh, that came out wrong, I.”

“I get it, Garrus. I just want to get the smell of death off me. And the blood. And the dust.”

“Of course. I’ll try to find something for you to wear. I think the quarter master have some asari stuff.”

“Great. I’ll just be...” Jane pointed at the small shower in the adjacent room.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back.”

He almost ran out of the cabin, and after a short row with the quarter master, he had an old black and blue training suit and a few shirts for Jane. He knocked before entering their room, then remembered that he probably wasn’t allowed to leave her alone lest she was some human spy. He hoped the captain hadn’t discovered this breach of etiquette.

“I have some clothes,” he said loudly outside the shower door. The door opened and a naked Jane accepted the clothes from him. He’d not forgotten that they’d actually showered naked before, but now, well.. It felt different. He felt like a gawker. She smiled and closed the door again, and he drew his breath heavily. So many scars, and he could’ve counted the ribs, but still wiry and strong. He was glad she was sleeping on the cot. For.. reasons. It wouldn’t be right, lusting after a friend in her condition. When she came out, she wore the black and blue civvies. He motioned to the beds, if she wanted to go to sleep, but she shook her head and joined him on the couch.

“Garrus, I.. Can we just sit here? For a while?”

Jane sounded so worn, like she’d been ground down. Garrus could do little beside nod. She leaned on his shoulder.

“I’m so tired,” she said and shut her eyes. “So tired. All these weeks, living like a prisoner, on an owner’s whim, fighting for your life, Living with someone else in a small cage, it’s.. it’s like you’re not even human. You just are.”

Jane shuddered. He wanted to hug her again, but she needed to say this, and he had to wait for her. “ I’ve kept my chin up, I’ve made myself not feel, done terrible things, it was like nothing could touch me, I could do anything, but now, now that I’m safe, I feel like.. like..”

The words stopped, and tears flowed in their stead. Garrus understood. Not her experiences, they were still hers alone, but he understood the sentiment.

“Like it’s not real, but you can’t keep it up any longer,” he said and pressed his nose against her hair. “As if you’ll wake up tomorrow back in that place.”

Her response was to curl up on the sofa and try to hug him with her one good arm, body wreaking with silent sobs. The dam had broken.

“You won’t,” Garrus promised. “I’m here now. I won’t let anyone take you back.”

He embraced her and sat silently on the couch as Jane cried herself to sleep in his arms.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, so much feels. I feel dirty.. I need to wash in the blood of my enemies.
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry about any word splitting or runaway punctuation marks. They do it just to annoy me, I'm absolutely bloody positive! Damned nurglings..


	56. Moments of tenderness, and a mean one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus helps Shepard with the first steps on the road to recovery.

It was a strange feeling for Garrus to be the powerful one in his relationship with Jane. She’d always been the more dominant one, either because of age or position, but now the roles were reversed, and he felt uneasy because of it. If they were to be more equal, he wanted it to be because he’d earned it by merits of his own actions, not because life had beaten Jane down. Right now she was sleeping with her head in his lap, while he was running his talons gently through her short hair. The occasional twitch and whimper told him she was still caught in a place he could not follow, and he thrummed sadly.

After an hour or so, he lifted her from the couch and carried her to the small cot. It was quite the balancing act, kneeling down with a sleeping human and depositing her on the cot without waking her, but somehow, he did it. Garrus tucked the sheet around her and went to his own bed. He took off the uniform and curled up in the oval structure. Was it just his imagination, or was Jane more restless? He didn’t know. Garrus pulled his own sheet up to his neck and turned to keep an eye on her. She was definitely jerking around more, but he could do nothing about it, and it broke him a little. After half an hour, his eyes drooped shut and he drifted into sleep.

 

Sometime after there was a loud thud and Garrus woke with a start. Jane had fallen on the floor, and was fighting her way out of her sheet, shouting incoherently. Garrus was up in seconds and pulled it from her.

“I won’t! I won’t!”

Jane was speaking to someone only she could hear.

“Hey, hey, easy. It’s me. It’s only Garrus. Nobody else is here.”

“Garrus is gone,” Jane whispered, blinking wildly.

“He’s right here. Jane..”

Garrus carefully placed his hand on her shoulder, and she froze. He knew he had to be very guarded with his approach at this moment.

“Jane, it’s Garrus. You wouldn’t hurt me, would you? Not again?”

She swallowed and started to breathe quick and shallow.

“Not again. Never again.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Come here.”

His arm snaked around her, and pulled her into another hug. He nudged her around until their foreheads met.

“Garrus?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Relax.”

Her body became less tense, and she sighed.

“I think I landed on my bad shoulder.”

“Let me see.”

He led her over to his bed and sat her down.

“Sorry for waking you up.”

“Don’t worry about it. Hold still.”

He opened up her shirt and checked the bandage. No blood, and it was still in place.

“I think you’re good. Maybe best if you don’t do another floor dive, though.”

“No promises, big guy,” she said weakly. “I don’t know why I do this now. I didn’t while I was in capture.”

“It’s just a readjustment. It’ll pass.”

“Will it? Honestly, Garrus, will it?”

He stopped his mandibles from clamping to his jaw, and forced them to flair instead.

“Sure it will. I’ll help.”

“I hope you’re right. Thanks for checking. I better, uh.. Get back to my own place.” She got up and limped back to the cot.

“Good night, Garrus.”

“Good night, Jane.”

 

Perhaps another hour passed when Garrus heard the sound of someone kicking the wall, a small creak and a cot toppling over. He was out of the bed in the next minute, and bent down beside her.

“Easy. Easy. Jane?”

“Fuck you, commander,” she screeched , punching up with her good hand. He caught it easily, and pressed his forehead to his again.

“Jane, stop. Stop. He’s not here.”

“I can’t block that. I can’t block! Don’t slash me!”

“Jane, he’s not here. He can’t hurt you.” Garrus started to purr, and Jane relaxed a little.

“Vyrnnus is not here. It’s just Garrus. Just me.”

She blinked a few times, and sanity returned to her features.

“Garrus? Damn. I did it again, didn’t I?”

“It’s all right, Jane. But this isn’t working.”

“Right.. I’m sorry.. Perhaps I should go back to the cells.”

“Not a chance.” Garrus picked her up and carried her to his bed. “You slept when you were close to me. We’ll try this before you’re strapped down like some animal.”

“Garrus...”

“We’re friends and we’re bonded. I’m not watching you tear yourself apart like this. Nothing else will happen, I promise.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you’d be inappropriate, I just..”

“I know. But I’m making the decision this time, because you need to sleep, and so do I.”

Jane looked defeated. “Fair enough.”

“All right. Come here.”

Garrus rolled towards the wall, and motioned Jane to follow. She scooted closer and laid down next to him.

He tried to lighten the mood. “See, we both have clothes on, nothing untoward will happen. Unless you _want_ to ditch that hopeless turian you’re with and date me instead.”

That made her chuckle a little, and Garrus chuckled with her.

“Not yet. Someday, maybe.”

“I can live with maybe.” He put her arm around her and pulled her closer, and she instinctively rearranged her body after his turian shapes.

“You know, Aius will never believe me.”

Jane smiled. “Were you going to tell him?”

“’Course I was. Upsetting Aius is my hobby.”

He could feel her body shake with more silent chuckles.

“Hey, why don’t we work together? Let me take a holo, and we’ll both tell him tomorrow. With a few embellishments.”

“You want me to take a holo with you in bed? No way that could possibly go wrong..”

Garrus sighed. “You’re right. Too risky.”

There was a long pause.

“But it would be for a good cause, though.”

A first glint of the old mischievous Jane, and Garrus heart jumped.

“Yeah, it totally would.”

“All right, take the holo.” Jane rolled closer and closed her eyes with a saintly smile. Garrus pressed her nose into her hair flicked a mandible to the raised omni-tool, glancing sideways into the mini-cam.

Click.

“He’s going to choke on his paste,” Garrus hummed.

“Can’t wait to see it.”

“Then you better get some sleep, and don’t kick me, little human. I might kick back.”

“All right, all right. But I better get the best crusty and stale levo-rations you have on this ship.”

“Deal.”

He laid awake until he heard Jane’s breath became steady and relaxed before he allowed himself to close his eyes. For the third time, Garrus fell asleep, but now, he had his arms full of warm human, and he’d never been more comfortable in his life.

 

* * *

The omni-tool rang the breakfast chime, and Garrus groaned in despair. He did not want to get up, it was too warm and cozy in the bed. And.. crowded? He opened his eyes, and discovered that Jane had turned around during the night and was currently clinging to his every limb like a pyjak. He’d never thought the slur could be so apt, but she was everywhere, hand on his cowl, foot around his spur, face in his neck, keel bone leaning on her collar bone. He was very effectively trapped. Any other time he would have loved to stay like this, but suddenly felt an urgent call of nature, and started to extrapolate himself from the human pyjak with great reluctance. Jane made some noises of disapproval when she lost his body heat.

“I know,” he whispered. “I’d rather stay, but I need to use the bathroom.”

“Murmmrphh.”

“I totally agree.”

 

By the time he’d done his morning grooming and returned, Jane was awake and getting dressed.

When she saw him, she grinned. “Morning.”

“Good morning to you too. Sleep well? That last part, I mean.”

“Yeah, that last part was.. great. Quick thinking. Thank you.”

He smiled proudly.

“Well, it was mostly for my benefit. The standard pillows aren’t soft enough.”

“Demoted to a turian head - rest. Who would’ve thought.”

“Certainly not your mother.”

“Aw, low blow, Vakarian.”

“A cheat of a human taught me to fight dirty.”

“Never listen to humans, they’re untrustworthy.”

“I know. When I woke up this morning, she was all over me.”

“What? Aaaww.. crap. I can do that, yes. Sorry.”

Garrus winked at her. “No worries. I kinda liked it.”

Jane shook her head.

“All right, all right, you win this round, but only because you’re likely to refuse a starving human food.”

“You’re absolutely right. Let’s go to the mess hall. You’re probably going to cause a stir, but I really couldn't care less.”

 

* * *

 

Their presence did cause an uproar , but not for the reason he imagined. When they arrived. Strabo and his charges were already present, and the injured krogan demanded in a loud voice that Shepard join them at the table. Garrus had sort of wished for a more private seating, but he knew it was hopeless when he heard Nirea squeal somewhere in the back and heard Mevia call out “What the fuck?” In short succession Nirea, Mevia, and Aius had changed their seats to sit at the prisoner’s table, with the rest of the hall merely staring in amazement.

Garrus made it clear they were not discussing any of the last months events, and his tone made it clear to the others there would be consequences for breaking this command. They didn’t, but instead pelted her with questions from her training, regaled her with personal gossip, and enjoyed the appalled and frightened expression on Aius’ face after he sprayed Skogan with paste when Garrus sent him the holo they’d taken the night before. The 30 minutes went far too fast for Jane’s liking, but Garrus promised to take her around to visit Four’s stations during the day cycle. Only Mevia refused to go, and discreetly pulled Jane aside to have a word with her. Garrus pretended to be occupied with something else, but he caught the entire exchange.

 

“So, Shepard, I wanted to ask..” Mevia began, wringing her talons around a small gift box. “What does this really mean to a human? I mean, the extranet contains so much strange information about human mating rituals, this hardly comes up.”

She handed the small box to Jane, who opened it with a small click, and gasped. Something shiny glowed inside.

“Wow, is this from Argyle? I didn’t know you two were this serious?”

“Serious? So.. this is not a joke?”

“Probably won’t find this under mating rituals,” Jane grinned. “This is more of a bonding ritual for humans. A ring is a symbol for when a human wants to mate for life, but we call it to wed, or to get married. Mating rituals probably brought up many weird hits.”

“He.. wants to do a human bond ritual?”

“That would be my qualified guess. The ring symbolizes a union, or something that never ends, in this case, your love. According to our customs, you wear one with his name and he wears one with yours.”

“Oh.”

There was a long pregnant pause. Garrus couldn't help sneak a peek at Mevia’s face, and her mandibles were fighting between great joy and utter shock.

“I should probably say something to him?”

It was Jane’s turn to look shocked.

“You haven’t replied? When did you get this?”

“About a month ago, when we got some deliveries from the Citadel.” Mevia saw Jane’s face. “That’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Let me ask you, have you heard from him since?”

“Well sure, he asked me how I liked his proposal, I said he hadn’t really propositioned me in a while, and that he was being silly.. ”

“Oh gods...” Shepard put her palm to her forehead.

Mevia thrummed loudly.

“Spirits.. I have to.. I have to go do something. Right?”

“Better hurry, he might think you’re breaking things off with him.”

Mevia stared at Jane for three seconds, then ran out.

Garrus walked up to her.

“Trouble?”

“Hopefully something we can laugh at later tonight. I think Argyle and Mevia are about to make history.”

“Relay incident history?” he asked innocently.

“Gods, I hope not, though I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Ey, Shepard! Are you gonna leave me with that krogan the whole day?” Zaeed called to her, and Strabo waved pleadingly behind his back.

Garrus pointed a thumb at him. “Want to be merciful?”

“Why not. Strabo is a decent guy. Are those… sergeant patches on his armor?”

“Yep. He’s a model turian,” Garrus sighed. “Not a rule-breaker like me. I have a meeting with captain Victus later. If you could stay under guard with Strabo until that’s over...”

Jane nudged him in the shoulder. “Hey, I like a rule-breaker. And I’ll stay with Strabo and the others, no problem. If the captain gets too pushy, just remind him I’m best friends with Saren now.”

“Do you want me thrown out of the airlock?”

“There’s a thought.”

Garrus pushed her gently towards Zaeed.

“Go with Strabo, mean human.”

 

* * *

 

The meeting with the captain had gone easier than he had anticipated. Victus informed Garrus of his speedy decision to transfer him to C-Sec academy on the Citadel as soon as the ship docked, making him one of the earliest transfers in C-Sec history. There was no room for debate, and Garrus accepted the captain’s words without complaint. He was in no position to bargain, and he had broken a number of rules when he hacked the door to see Jane. He’d miss Four after the transfer, but he’d be working under the tutelage of his father, and his mother had been hinting at this for months. They’d both be pleased, and Victus confirmed that the reason for the transfer would be kept secret. Saren’s influence was felt everywhere.

Upon his return to Strabo’s group, he found the four of them engaged in a tense bout of skyllian five. Strabo had managed to scrounge up ration bars and old paste tubes as stakes, and by the look of it, the krogan had eaten half of his ‘money’ already. Garrus wasn’t really surprised when he saw that Strabo had the least amount of ration bars left, but Zaeed was giving Shepard a run for her paste. He suspected strongly that she was up against an experienced cheater, but being a cheat herself, neither of them called the other out. Poor Strabo and Skogan was caught in the greedy crossfire. Garrus declined a buy in and opted for watching the thriller from the nearby bench. Being this close to Jane during a poker game, he saw a slight of hand he never thought possible, and vowed to himself to never play Jane for anything important. If they were going to fight for anything, it would be a shooting match on his terms. The stakes got higher and higher, and there was an unnatural politeness between Jane and the old mercenary between the betting. It was a mind war as much as a game of cards. Strabo bowed out and went over to Skogan, whispering something in his ear. The krogan nodded. Zaeed and Jane were focused only on each other, and didn’t seem to notice. Strabo punched a code in his omni-tool, and an alert blared through the room.

“What the hell?” Zaeed barked. “Not now, I’m winning.”

“Like hell you are,” Jane hissed. “This game is mine.”

“Who do you think you are, whelp? I’ve played skyllian five since before you were a twitch in your mum’s snatch.”

“And if you played this bad all these years, no wonder you can’t afford a decent ship. Wait, didn’t that explode? Whoops!”

Garrus grinned as the whole thing devolved into a shouting match, and the pair of them didn’t even notice Skogan stuffing the entire ‘credit registry’ down his maw. Strabo was having a hard time not to laugh. This was payback for that last game they had back on Gagarin.

When he’d eaten the last little morsel, Skogan let out a loud burp.

Zaeed looked down.

“Hey, what the..” Did you eat all my ration bars, damned shell-skull?”

Skogan got up and grinned menacingly. “Yeah. What are you going to do about it?”

Zaeed subconsciously grabbed for something at his hip, probably a knife that weren’t there, and he resigned himself to cursing.

“You steal and you snore. What else.”

Garrus saw Jane’s face split in a smile when the old mercenary marched off to a corner to sulk.

“I need a nap,” Skogan said and yawned. “I’m full.”

“Shuddup!” Zaeed snapped.

“Jane, we promised to visit the rest of the team,” Garrus said.

“Nice seeing you again, Strabo. Congrats on the promotion, if I forgot to say it.”

Strabo hummed proudly. “Thanks, Shepard. See you at dinner.”

The two of them left, and Garrus noted that Jane was happy, but a little tired. They would turn in early tonight.

 

* * *

 

After three days on the Ravuna, Garrus had decided that Jane needed the whole day to rest. They were met with questions and stares wherever they went, and even if Four was her people, the rest of the ship weren’t overfond of neither Jane or her companions. Being back among other people meant having to deal with all those different opinions, and Jane had been confined for weeks and months within a cage with little need for small talk.

Aius had scrounged up an old Blasto movie and given it to Garrus, and he and Jane were sitting on the couch watching it, just relaxing and doing as little as possible. She was unusually quiet, but Garrus didn’t know what else to do. He even offered to play skyllian five, or watch another movie, anything really, but she wasn’t interested.

In the end they settled on music. Jane mentioned that she liked classical music from earth, and asked if they had something like that on Palaven. Garrus knew they didn’t have what the humans called a piano, but they did have old music going back to the age of the Titans, or so the Temples told. A search through his music files found a temple choir doing ancient turian songs, with chants and doing rounds. He put on a track just to see if Jane liked it, and to his surprise she loved it. The choir’s voices resonated in deep dual tones inside the small room, and Jane sat silently and listened for an hour. The ancient hymns, released some of the tension in her shoulders, and after a long silence, she began to speak in a monotone lifeless voice.

Garrus’ talons scratched the couch arm when he listened to Jane’s story of the capture, the miserable conditions aboard the slaver ship, the assault and the resulting loss of the ear, but he forced himself to say nothing. This was her moment, and she needed to get it all out before he offered support. When she talked about almost being chipped, he couldn't help but thrum anxiously and sent a fleeting thought of gratitude towards Zaeed. That evaporated as fast as it came when she told of the fighting in the pits. What was wrong with the man? Garrus saw the reasoning behind it, but he also saw the results hiding in Jane’s eyes.

The story continued, and he understood more of her fear of losing control and the voices she heard. Void-sight, her krogan had called it. The worst of it all was Jane’s subdued dread of hurting someone she cared about. That and the wanton cruelty she committed so easily. That was the two things she lingered on more than anything else, more than the beatings, the killings and the ear. Garrus waited patiently through every detail, but at the end, when she casually mentioned she’d called out for him because he was the one person she believed could pull her out of the trance, he broke ranks and pulled her close.

“I’m here now,” he thrummed. “I don’t care what you did to survive, the important thing is that you live.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be myself after this. The things I did.. The people I killed..”

“The ones in the pit would’ve died either way. It was them or you. Even that turian soldier. The rest were pirates and slavers. They deserve what they got. Even Vorhess. I hope his soul rots in his corpse. And I’ll help you find Krakk when I’m in C-Sec.”

She said nothing for a long while, not until the last chant in his choir play list sounded its last tone. There was a shift in the couch cushions when she leaned on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

“Thank you. I’m sorry for burdening you with all the crap that happened to me.”

“For you, I’ll carry anything,” he said and leaned his own head on top of hers. “ Never forget that.”

“I’ll remember.”

Jane drifted away, and Garrus sighed in the short hairs on her head.

“Anything,” he whispered. “Always.”

 

**Five hours later**

Garrus’ sheet was jerked away when Jane sat bolt upright in the bed.

“Oh no!”

“Jane, relax, Vyrnnus is not here,” he began, but she turned to him with a wild expression.

“I’m fine, Garrus, it’s not that, but I forgot to tell my mother I’m alive! I have to call her!”

She started grabbing for his omni-tool, but he stopped her.

“Jane, wait, wait, don’t do that.”

“She has to know! Gods, I’m an awful daughter. And Dmitri and Decian! Fuck, how can I be this dense..”

“You’re not dense, you’ve been exhausted. And think about this, Jane,” he said and held the omni-tool out of her reach. “Calling your mother? From a turian omni-tool? Address Vakarian? Hello?”

She let her hand drop.

“Right. Fuck.. How about Dmitri? He could call her, she has to know he’s got a bounty out. I’d bet my life he’s the crazy russki.”

“Probably. What’s a russki?”

“It’s.. nevermind. Will you let me call him?”

“If it’s a Citadel address, yes, not if he’s on earth. You’d get me in trouble with the captain. Again.”

“He’s on the Citadel, I’m sure.”

“Okay.” He handed her the omni-tool.

Her fingers trembled as she keyed the name.

Five whole minutes passed, then a sweaty, red and angry face appeared on screen.

“Who is this? If not important, I will kill you.”

“Not important at all, just an old friend calling to say hello,” Jane said, trying to keep the eagerness out of her voice.

“Old friend? I do not know..” Dmitri leaned closer to the cam. “Wait.. Wait.. Jane?!”

“In the somewhat reduced flesh.”

“You live?! I knew it! Eri! Eri! Don’t just lie there, get up!”

He shook someone below him. There was a brief exchange off camera, and Dmitri came back with a blue face beside him. She looked flushed.

“Jane! Thank the Goddess! Where are you? Are you in danger?”

Garrus made a crazy snarling face, and Jane slapped him on the keel bone.

“No, I’m safe. I’m aboard a turian cruiser bound for the Citadel.”

Dmitri nudged Eriela out of the way. “You are coming here? Хорошо! Хорошо! When?”

Jane glanced at Garrus, and he held up three and a half talon.

“About three or four days.”

“Хорошо! We will expect turian cruiser. But, one more thing. Where in hell have you been?! And where is _ear?_ I have been worried sick! So has your mother. And that nutty turian of yours, he thinks you are dead!”

“Poor Decian,” Jane said. “I’ll call him afterwards. Listen, I can’t really talk on this channel, might be overheard, but can you contact my mother? Let her know I’m alive and safe?”

“Do not think I you can escape questions that easy. Who saved you?”

Jane sighed and cocked an eyebrow to Garrus. He smiled back, but in this case, he was on Dmitri’s side. He’d want to know everything at once as well.

“It was two parts, first there was a mercenary, Zaeed Massani, he said something about a russki and a bounty.”

“See? Told you it would work,” Dmitri said to Eriela.

“Then there was a huge standoff between some ships from Omega, some artifact dealer, batarian slavers and the turian fleet.”

“Omega?” Eriela said as she pulled the camera from Dmitri. “Were they shot down?”

Again Jane glanced at Garrus, and he shook his head.

“Not that I’m aware,” she replied.

“I think your mother would have told you, or sent a bill ” Dmitri said. “Listen, Jane, about that mercenary-..”

There was a loud chime from the omni-tool, and a warning flashed in the display.

‘User has no more uplink-time left for the month. Please end connection.’

“Uh, I think time’s up. I’ll send you a message tomorrow.”

“You better, or I will drown councilor Sparatus in petitions,” Dmitri grinned. “I will call mother.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

“Jane.. I am happy you are alive. I have big news to share.” Dmitri’s smile threatened to crack his face.

“I’ll look forward to it. Goodnight.”

That was all she had time for before the link was cut.

“Sorry about that. I’ve been spending a lot of my allotted time complaining to my mother,” Garrus confessed.

“It’s all right. But now I can’t call Dmitri. And you have a very.. peculiar setup on this tool.”

“Hey, I’ll send him a message, we’ve been talking quite a lot about you since you went missing.”

“Thanks Garrus. I think I’ll hit the head before going back to sleep.”

Jane hopped out of the bed, and Garrus sent a message to Decian.

 

_ <G.Vakarian – Garrus>: Hey, can you chat. _

The reply came almost instantly.

_ <D. Chellick – Decian>: No, on a date. Uncle’s order. Sucks. Later? _

 

Garrus stared at the words. A date. That bastard. How dared he? Garrus knew Chellick was doing the sensible thing, obeying his uncle Venari and moving on, but this stuck in his gizzard no matter what. Chellick had given up too soon.

Inside the bathroom he heard the flush, and he hurriedly copied the holo from last night and sent a new message.

 

* * *

_ <Garrus>: So if you’re in the market for a new girlfriend, can I have the old one? #Image attached. _

* * *

 

He knew it was petty, and cruel, and Jane would most likely be pissed at him later, but right now he didn’t care. Chellick deserved a smack in the fringe.

There was no reply for a minute, then came a barrage of entries.

 

_ <Decian>: Answer the call! _

_ <Decian>: Answer the call! _

_ <Decian>: Answer the damn call! _

_< Decian>: Answer the fucking call! _

_ <Decian>: Vakarian you asshole, pick up the damn omni-tool and answer me! _

_ <Decian>: STAY AWAY FROM MY GIRLFRIEND, YOU BASTARD! _

 

Garrus turned off the sound alerts and closed the display.

“Did he get the message?” Jane said and scooted back into bed.

“Oh yes he did. Can’t wait to see you,” Garrus said with a sly grin.

“Gods, I don’t know if I’m gonna tell him about these sleeping arrangements,” Jane huffed. “That’s going to be trouble.”

“Probably,” Garrus admitted and snuggled up to her. There would always be trouble tomorrow. Right this moment, he had a warm bed and Jane all to himself. That was enough for now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Garrus, Garrus, Garrus. Just when we thought you were starting to grow up, you remind us you're just 17.. lol.  
> Another interlude chapter, with no blood or gore neither. *chokes and splutters, gasps for air..*  
> Hope you liked it anyway :D


	57. Relapse and reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard has a relapse, and Garrus has a new secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teeny tiny smut alert. No biggie. Really.

**2176 CE – October 17 th – Sim-room – 09:47 AM**

Garrus was in a great mood. He’d shot a perfect series today, and Jane was standing in the back admiring his marksman skills. Despite some small argument between them a few days ago after Decian had blabbed to Dmitri about the holo and Dmitri had sent Jane a message about her panic-stricken boyfriend pounding down his door, things were all right. She’d merely shaken her head at him and made him promise not to do it again. Garrus felt almost vindicated by this. If it had been such a bad thing, surely she would’ve clapped him around the mandibles, but she didn’t, and Decian had been on a date, after all. The creep.

His father had sent his warmest congratulations on his transfer to C-sec, but his mother received a more updated story. Vistilla was concerned about his friend, and delighted that he’d be away from the front line soon. Sometimes Garrus thought his mother worried too much. Aside from the occasional pirate skirmish, there was no looming threat on the horizon as far as he knew.

His preoccupation with nailing his last series made Garrus miss the looming threat from behind.

 

“Hey, softskin? Yeah, you!”

Shepard looked around to see where the comment originated, and saw a tan-plated turian with white colony marks and his cream-plated friend grin at her. They were not nice smiles.

“Don’t want any trouble, guys,” she said and looked away.

The tan one came closer.

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t be aboard this ship?”

“Take it easy, I’ll be gone soon.”

The cream-plated one came up beside his friend.

“Yeah, but you see, by then, we’ll have to breathe your air for another day.”

“And we don’t like that,” the tan said.

Shepard quickly surveyed the two. She could take them out with a flick of the hand, but the fine line between disabling and killing with her biotics had evaporated during her stay in the pits, and her powers were always on full blast now. No subtlety. This was no time to take chances.

“All right, I’ll go back to my quarters.”

She tried to walk away, when one of them grabbed her by the arm. Alarm bells went off in her head, but she forced herself to relax. Just dumb kids showing off in front of their friends, she told herself. Nothing to be upset about.

“See, that’s not going to work for us either. You’re a prisoner, and you’re given an officer’s room? What’s up with that? The captain has gone out of his mind.”

“Take it up with him then,” she said and tried to pull her arm loose.

“I think I’ll rather take it up with you, yeah? You’re sharing a room with Vakarian? Is he given some sort of special privilege?”

The cream-plated turian laughed. “Yeah, maybe want to extend that to the rest of the crew, not just a fledgling like that.”

Shepard’s face almost twisted into a snarl, but she managed to control the rising anger. Soliciting ‘prisoners’ for sex.. Yeah, she knew people like that. She just hadn’t expected to encounter them here.

“Let. Me. Go.”

“The little human shows some backbone,” the tan one grinned. “I like a bit of fighting before fucking.”

He tightened his grip around Shepard's arm, and she saw the welts from his talons on the skin. She also saw the now very familiar tremble in her fist.

“Release me now, please,” she said through clenched teeth.

“The human knows how to beg, at least,” the cream one said and put a heavy hand on her shoulder.

Shepard’s innate reflex took over. The tan turian was hit in the chest with a knockback force that sent him sprawling across the room, and the cream turian suddenly found himself in a deadly choke hold. Shepard saw nothing but the white flecks dancing in her sight as she continued to squeeze the air from her quarry. A third turian whom vaguely resembled someone she used to know tried to pull her away, and she elbowed said turian in the face and grabbed a spur whilst yanking it up, making the turian fall down on it’s back. The cream turian dropped unconscious to the floor, and she released him and lunged at the newcomer. It sounded like a female, not that it mattered to Shepard, and she readied a reave to end the fight quickly. Before she could finish the attack, a fourth turian snatched her arm from behind and pulled her off the downed female.

“Jane, stop! Please, stop.”

The voice made her hesitate, and she extinguished the reave and instead swung at the new enemy. He ducked and seized her around the waist, driving her backward until they both hit the wall.

“It’s Garrus, remember? Stop, Jane. Don’t hurt me.”

He dunked his crest on her forehead whilst pinning her hands to the wall. Shepard felt some of the haze lift, and after a long struggle to get free, the cobalt blue markings of her friend materialized on the turian’s face . She let her body go limp.

“Garrus.. Damn.. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re.. you? Not other -Jane?”

“I’m sorry, I just.. Those guys, I tried to hold back, but they grabbed me, and..”

He released her hands and spoke in a low voice.

“We shouldn’t have been here. Poor Nirea got quite a scare. Were you really going to reave her?” Garrus looked disapprovingly at her, but Shepard couldn’t find it in herself to lie. Not to him.

“If you hadn’t stopped me, I would have. Not that I recognized who she was at the time.”

“Spirits, Jane!”

“I know.”

People dispersed when the turian guards came running, and they easily spotted the guilty parties, one of which was still unconscious.

“To the cells, human,” the taller guard barked. “The captain will hear about this.”

She didn’t even protest, but Garrus insisted to tag along, even if it meant being locked up beside her.

“You’re not helping your career here,” Jane said as they were escorted to the cells.

“I’m helping a friend instead.”

“…. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll just come and live at your place with you and Decian when I’m creditless and homeless.”

“Hehe, I’ll prepare a cot.”

The guard glared at them. “Be quiet!”

The pair of them said nothing else until they were locked up.

“I’ll have the captain down here, then you’ll answer for disturbing our training.”

“Sure,” Jane said.

Garrus wanted to tell that obnoxious guard a thing or two, but Jane tugged at his talons to keep him silent and he relented.

“Better to explain things to the captain,” she whispered. “I doubt he’ll want this on his ship’s records.”

“But-..”

“I almost killed Nirea , and his soldiers harassed me. It’s in our mutual interest to get me off this cruiser as soon as possible.”

Garrus pondered this for a moment.

“You really think the captain won’t report this?”

“Wait and see. It’s political now.”

 

Jane turned out to be right. Captain Victus was furious at everyone who’d been involved with the altercation in the sim-room, but had to acknowledge that his soldiers were the instigators. The discreet offer of mutual silence on the subject was accepted, with the added caveat that she stayed in her room for the remainder of the trip. No more excursions. She’d given Garrus a subtle smile when she agreed, and he was a little stunned at how easily she could manipulate her way out of trouble. If it had been him, he’d confessed everything and left judgment to the captain. Jane told a version of events she knew would be believed and offered everyone a way out. It was a little scary.

 

* * *

 

Later the same day, Nirea stopped by the room to deliver dinner. She received at least five apologies from Jane and accepted them with a happy smile. Garrus doubted Nirea believed she’d been in any real danger, and thought her friend was overreacting. From the pained expression in Jane’s face, he knew it to be far from the truth.

They ate in silence, and afterwards Jane sunk into a n apathetic state. Worryingly, she stared blankly into the wall all through Blasto III, The volus snatcher. Garrus wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what would work . It’d had been a big wake-up call for him that she couldn’t see who Nirea was today. Whomever this Rolan Quarn guy was, he’d better work fast, before Jane did something really awful. She appeared more haggard and exhausted by the day, if one knew the signs to look for, and Garrus had learned a lot of those these past days.

He nudged her shoulder. “Hey? Jane?”

She blinked and came back to the present. “Hmm?”

“We’ll arrive at the Citadel tomorrow. What do you say we go to bed early, get up early and get ready?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m a little cold.”

“No problem. One hot turian coming up.”

“Yes, Garrus, I’ve seen your new and shiny fringe. Yes, it’s very impressive. No, I’m not about to jump you.”

Garrus gave her a wide eyed innocent stare.

“What are you talking about? I meant to share my body heat, nothing else. Stop ogling my plates, human.”

She smacked him in the face with a cushion. “Jerk.”

“Ow. If you wanted to sleep on the cot, you could’ve just said so.”

“Big jerk. And no, I don’t wanna sleep on the cot.”

“Then brush those pathetic excuses for teeth and get to bed.”

 

* * *

 

Jane hadn’t been lying. When he was beside her in the bed, he could actually feel her body shivering, like she was stuck in ice. Pulling her close, he snuggled his nose down to her neck. Maybe he’d never get this chance again, and he wanted to imprint to memory what she smelt like. It took almost an hour before she was warm enough to stop shaking, and another half an hour before she fell asleep. Tomorrow was the end of days. She’d go back to Decian, while he would.. . What?

Garrus wasn’t sure what awaited him on the Citadel, but C-sec couldn't be that bad. After all, his dad loved working there .

He drifted off into a deep sleep, and dreamt of warm human skin. In fact, he dreamed that Jane and he was fooling around on a warm beach somewhere, no Decian in sight. She was laughing at his jokes and playing with his mandibles, and beach- Garrus knew he’d ask her to be his bond mate some day. Not today, however, because she was playing with his waist and he was completely lost for words, silently begging her to continue. Her fingers traveled down, and down, and down, until they brushed against his willingly spreading plates. The sudden jolt of pleasure made him wriggle, and he bumped his nose against her forehead. And woke up.

Before his eyes adjusted to the dark, he could feel what he couldn't see, Jane had turned around and sneaked her hands under his shirt, caressing his waist. A feeling of equal hope and dread spread in his chest.

“Jane?”

No reply, and her breath was remarkably steady. Damn, she was sleeping.

“Jane, wakeuuuhhhhhhh-..” His effort ended in a low hoot when Jane proved she knew her way around turian anatomy, and those now warm fingers worked his hide just how he liked it. Actually, he loved it. So much so that his plates began to spread.

“Fuck,” he breathed. He really should wake her. He really should, but this would be awkward for both of them, and he didn’t want her to feel any different about him tomorrow. She’d stop soon, right? It was just a dream. Garrus snaked his hand down and held his pubic plates shut. This was not to be how he and Jane got together, him allowing her to creep on him. He gently tried to push her away, but instead of giving up, she gave a miffed little sigh and tried to put her leg over him. Oh spirits, damn, damn damn. This was not working out the way he thought they would. As a counter maneuver, he fended her off with his knee, but even in her sleep, Jane proved resourceful. The knee was caught between her warm thighs, and her fingers moved back on his waist. Garrus opened his mouth to say something when she started grinding on his leg. He froze. And he _wanted_. He desired her so badly he could almost taste her, feel her tongue again, but he had to stay quiet. No, he had to wake her up! Or, maybe he could just wait it out? She’d had a stressful day. Spirits, he was a bad friend. Hey, he was the one being accosted here. But Jane was sleeping! Bad turian!

All of these thoughts raced in his mind until he heard Jane’s small moans and whimpers as she slowly rode his leg. Garrus laid still and tried to strangle the familiar pre-ogasmic vibration hum in his chest which had been present for a while. He knew if he moved one centimeter, he would slip his tight grip on the groin plates and spray everything in the bed. He would have to let himself be used, and try not to enjoy it too much. It was going to be very difficult.

Jane rubbed herself on the upper part of his leg for what felt like a sweet agonizing eternity, and when she finally orgasmed, she gripped his waist so firmly Garrus let out a loud chirp and came hard behind his plates. His seam was wide open underneath the plates, and semen flowed freely between his talons. Aw fuck. At least he hadn’t showered Jane. She had no idea what had happened, never mind how much he’d wanted that load to go inside her instead of dripping on the sheets. Nope, his little human was completely oblivious to the havoc she wreaked on her best friend. She let out a long contented sigh, and flopped down on her back.

“Jane?” he whispered.

No reply.

He tried again, a little louder. “Jane.”

“Mmmrrgh.”

“Right. Very helpful,” he mumbled. At least she hadn’t woken up, and he hadn’t done some horrendous act of nighttime seduction that couldn’t be excused. Nevertheless, he muttered some choice words when he had to climb over the sated and sleeping human without spilling any more from his sheath, and tip-taloned into the shower. Someday he would tell her of this, and hopefully, get some playful revenge for being used as a sex toy. For now, this would be his dirty and sticky little secret.

 

**2176 CE – October 18 th – Citadel docking bay – 13:48 PM**

The Ravuna got docking clearance without any delay, but the captain still wanted to process Jane out with the rest of the ‘guests’ before allowing her to disembark. Garrus himself was all packed and ready, waiting for her at the entrance. His pride and joy, the Volkov sniper rifle proudly displayed on his back, but not even the smell of gun oil could stop him smelling like a damn orgy. Ah well, if nothing else, Decian would throw a fit. If he came at all, that is. Perhaps his concern for his family's precious reputation would win out.

“THIEF!”

Garrus was snatched out of his reveries and pulled up in the air by a krogan sized man.

“You spiky little thief! Give it back!”

Whatever Garrus could be called, little was no longer one of those things , but in the face of this raging human, Garrus felt smaller than his 195 centimeters. There was also the fact that the man had lifted him clear off the ground.

“Put me down, human!”

The human lowered him to the ground, but kept a firm grasp on Garrus’ shoulder straps.

“Give back my rifle!”

“This isn’t your rifle, human! Let me go!”

The turian soldiers outside the entrance laughed and pointed, but made no move to come to Garrus’ aid. He was no longer one of them.

“That is Volkov prototype 2. Only eleven ever made, three are destroyed, five in Alliance ownership, two are in my company headquarter and one, only one is owned by private person. You are _not_ that person! Give it back, thief!”

“I’m not a thief, stranger. This was a gift!”

“Why would she give rifle to you? It is worth more than your ramshackle house on Palaven.”

“Listen, human,” Garrus snarled, “where I got this rifle is none of your business!”

“Oh, that is where you are so wrong, turian. Everything concerning that Volkov is my business. It is all my business.”

An asari looking somewhat embarrassed rushed up to them.

“Sweetheart, don’t make a scene. I’m sure this young turian can explain where he got the rifle without you tearing his head off.”

“I won’t,” Garrus said, “it’s mine, and that’s the end of it.”

The asari looked at him like she’d tried to help, but he was beyond helping now.

“You are one dead bird,” the dark-haired human spat.

Garrus saw a sparkle of biotic energy in his hand. The man was biotic.

“Hey, I wouldn't do that if I were you,” he said quickly. “My friend is disembarking every second now, and if she finds you’ve hurt me, she’ll teach you what true biotic power means.”

The human stopped. “She? There are no biotics on regular turian ship. Unless.. Are you talking about Jane?”

Garrus stopped too. “Uh, yeah. Jane Shepard, and she-..”

“Are you Garrus Vakarian? One of her little turians?”

To Garrus surprise, the human was grinning from ear to ear now. It was like someone had flipped a switch, from deranged to deliriously happy. Humans were scary.

“I’m Garrus Vakarian , yes, but I’m not-..”

“Garrus!” the man bellowed and gave him a friendly slap on the cowl that forced Garrus to take two steps forward.

“The one who drives first turian crazy, yes? Very funny. I had to get Ducky drunk to get him out of house last time. Nervous wreck. Hilarious!”

“It wasn’t hilarious, cruel man, it was just sad,” the asari said. “Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Eriela, and this big lump is my husband, Dmitri.”

“Dmitri and Eriela,” Garrus repeated, then his eyes brightened. “Oh, right. Jane talks about you all the time.”

“So does Dmitri, ” Eriela laughed and rolled her eyes. “Like bickering siblings whenever they meet.”

“Is Chellick here?” Garrus looked around.

“Decian? He said he was, but his uncle is very angry with him. After what you did, he threw a fit in the coffee shop and kept shouting into his omni-tool. Pallin was informed of the events by Decian’s miffed date. He was forced to explain everything.”

Eriela sighed, but Dmitri was laughing out loud.

“As I said, very funny. Good job, Garrus.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Eriela said with an exasperated look. “This will only cause stress for Jane.”

That made Dmitri calm down, but he still chuckled whenever he glanced at Garrus.

“I think that’s her.” Eriela pointed at the ship.

It was indeed Jane, and behind her a large krogan ambulated down the walkway, blocking a human in yellow armor on purpose.

“God, she is so thin,” Dmitri said. “So different. And that ugly scar..”

“Don’t make a fuss,” Garrus said. “She hates it when you make a big scene over it.”

“Damn, I know, but..”

Jane had seen them and were hurrying towards them. Before Garrus or Eriela could say another word, Dmitri was charging straight for her.

“милая! Come here!”

He wrapped his large arms around her and squeezed her tight.

“Give her some air, husband,” Eriela smiled.

Jane was released and straightened the small sling on her arm and the backpack, then discreetly wiped an eye.

“Stupid arm stings. Must’ve rolled on it tonight.”

Garrus had to concentrate hard to not smirk.

“So, husband? You got married when I was away? Some friend I have.”

“I had to,” Dmitri grinned. “Eriela had to make an honest man out of me before the baby came.”

“Baby?! Congratulations, Eriela,” Jane said and pushed Dmitri aside to hug the asari. “And who’s the father?”

“Hey!” Dmitri protested.

“Oh, just some guy I met on the extranet, some drinks, a lap dance, and then, you know...” Eriela smiled.

“Hey!!”

They kept ignoring him.

“Don’t I ever. So many guys, so little time.”

“Time out. Women..” Dmitri pushed himself between them. “Jane, you are aunt for my kid. No refusals.”

“Of course I am,” Jane smiled. “Imagine, cool aunt Jane will teach mini-Dima to swear.”

“No, I will have well behaved child,” Dmitri said, apparently regretting the demand.

“And how to shoot things.”

“Uh, I have changed mind,” Dmitri muttered.

 

“Yeah, yeah, real fascinating,” the old merc behind the krogan barked. “I want my credits.”

Dmitri turned around.

“You are bounty hunter?”

“Yeah, I am. I was the one who pulled your little chum out of neural chipping. My ship got blown up. I want restitution.”

Dmitri glanced at Jane.

“You destroyed his ship?”

“That was the turian fleet. Nice try, Zaeed.”

“Shepard, really? Where’s the gratitude? You’d be dribbling in your kippers bowl if I hadn’t stopped by.”

“True, but I did _earn_ my way out later, didn’t I?” Jane said with a small menacing smile.

The old mercenary forced a laugh, and Garrus wanted to slap him in the face. Jane was the unstable mess she was partly because of this man.

“Well, I’d say it was a cooperative work, wouldn’t you?”

“I didn’t see you fighting in the pits like Shepard, ” Skogan said.

“Who’s your friend?” Eriela beamed at the krogan. “Aren’t you a bit young to be off planet?"

“I’m 43 standard years.” Skogan lifted his hump defensively. “Twice Shepard's age.”

“As I said, very young. And very cute. ”

Skogan’s jaw dropped.

“Jane, I want word,” Dmitri said and motioned to a spot further away. “ Mercenary, wait here.”

“Be right back, Garrus.”

Garrus gave her a fast smile before he returned to staring at what appeared to be a blushing krogan and one irate human.

 

“Who is telling truth? Human or krogan?” Dmitri said with crossed arms.

“Both of them, in their own way,” Shepard said. “Zaeed Massani did save me from getting chipped, but he had to pawn his ship to get away. I had to fight in the pits to get it back.”

“He made you fight?” Dmitri’s eyes had gone completely dark, and Shepard recognized the anger and promised vengeance in them. It was like looking in a masculine mirror.

“Dmitri, please. I hated it, but I also believe there was no other way. I don’t know what you’ve promised as a bounty, thank you so much for that, by the way, but he deserves _something_.”

“A bullet in head,” Dmitri hissed. “Look at you! Thin, scarred and pale.”

Shepard swayed slightly.

“Please, I don’t want anything to happen to him. I was on a slab with a drill at the back of my head when he intervened. Zaeed is a bastard, all right, but he did save me and Skogan, and I’m grateful for that, at least. Disregard his winning personality.”

“The krogan? Jane, you are strange human. Collecting every alien you come across, like menagerie.”

“That’s mean, Basanov.”

“Yes, yes. But you have to understand, I worried. For months. Like your mother and other bird.”

“Sorry about that. There was little I could do.”

“I understand.”

He hugged her again.

“Old yellow will get another ship, how is that? I think company has a few older ferries we need to be rid of, somewhere.”

“I need another favor.”

“Just ask, auntie.”

“Skogan needs a place to stay, and help to.. I don’t know what he wants, but whatever it is..”

“I will get your krogan started on Citadel life, not worry.”

“Does Eriela have some single friends? He really likes asari, and I sorta promised to help him get a little blue.”

Dmitri laughed. “There is always single asari looking for krogasm. I will ask.”

“Thank you. You’re the best.”

“Better than blue-faced turian?” Dmitri winked. “I see how he looks at me when I give hug. Wants all hugs for himself.”

“Garrus? He’s just a friend. One of my best friends.”

“Then you better explain that to boyfriend,” Dmitri said and pointed.

Over at the entrance gate, Decian and Garrus were having a heated argument. Shepard sighed. She should have seen that coming a mile away.

“Wait here,” she told Dmitri.

“Not a chance! I want to hear everything,” he chuckled and walked beside her towards the thrumming turians.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No early chapter this week, real life crept up on me and tripped me over. That bastard.  
> Please don't hate on Garrus for his little stumble on propriety, he should perhaps have done something different, but he's sometimes lost on what to do. :) And I didn't make it easy for him either. Those horny stressed out humans can be so hard to pry away, even when they're sleeping... XD  
> Shame, shame, shame!


	58. A small pebble..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard meets Rolan Quarn, and a small act of kindness can have large and unforeseeable consequences.

From what she could see, Garrus and Decian was standing almost nose to nose, hurling insults and threats at each other. Beside her, Dmitri chuckled unabashedly, and Shepard almost started to laugh herself. It was surreal, but not unexpected. She should’ve realized Decian would be angry with Garrus after that holo-stunt.

“Look at peacocks,” Dmitri said with a smile.

“Give me a break, Dmitri. It’s not that funny.”

“I disagree.”

 

They were 10 meters away from the two arguing turians when they were intercepted by a third. The stranger had ashen white plates with dark gray edges, olive eyes and charcoal hide. He was simply stunning, and carried himself like he was keenly aware of this.

“Jane Shepard?” he asked politely.

“Yes?”

“Saren was right. Follow the line of lecherous turians, and you’ll find her.”

The turian wiggled his mandibles, and Shepard was oddly drawn to them. He oozed charm, and his voice was humming with flirtatious humor. When he winked at her, Shepard got an intense sensation of vertigo. The wow-factor was through the roof.

“Sorry, I don’t know you, but perhaps I should?”

“Jane!” Dmitri said and pinched her arm. “Down, girl.”

The turian laughed. “Rolan Quarn, at your service. Literally so.”

“You’re Saren’s favor? I don’t give that turian enough credit.”

Dmitri sighed. He’d suddenly become her moral compass.

“Jane, boyfriend is trying to kill your little fan, back to reality, please?”

“Trouble in your human paradise? Allow me to help,” Rolan said and stepped closer. At the same time he started purring, not the soft hum of a young turian, but the deep reverberating growl of an older male. It was the kind of purr that drilled into one’s bones and came out of the back of your head. Jane’s eyes swam, and even Dmitri moved uneasily.

The bickering boys over by the gate went dead silent, and Shepard saw in the corner of her eye two sets of indignant eyes, one bright green and one sparkling blue.

“There, I think that stopped them from murdering one another. You might have some explaining to do, mind you.”

Shepard grinned a big foolish grin.

“I have no doubts.”

“Now, I was informed of an incident on the Ravuna yesterday, is that true?”

“Nothing escapes Saren’s notice. Yes, I almost killed someone.”

“I see. Then might I suggest we don’t dally any further than necessary? Until you’ve learned a semblance of control, it might not be a good idea to room with other people. Neither of the human nor the alien kind.”

“Makes sense,” Dmitri said. “I can let you borrow small flat I used before Eriela got pregnant. We have not sold it yet.”

“Okay,” Shepard said, “but..”

“And I would also suggest that you bring your little gift to doctor Mordin, since that was part of your agreement with the Spectre,” Rolan continued.

“Fine, he’ll get the datapad, I’ll head right over there.”

“And then you might want to retire and order food delivered. No dining out tonight. Don’t want any incidents before we start tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? I’ll have to report to the Alliance HQ for reinstatement and new orders.”

“Do you think they’ll put you back in rotation the day after you come back? I think not.”

Here Rolan playfully placed his palm on his crest. “ With my powers, I foresee a great many months of psychological evaluations, fitness test and interviews regarding your stay in captivity.”

He took the hand down.

“And you don’t want to be caught with that pad and let them find out you weren’t handing it over to the Alliance.”

“That’s a fair point,” Shepard agreed. “Are you going to follow me around to make sure I don’t do something stupid?”

Rolan smiled. “Do you want me to? Oh, by the way. Take this. Consider it a welcome home present.”

In his hand was a brand new Cipher omni-tool box, complete with both the bracelet and the implant.

“Is this hacked or bugged?” Shepard smiled back and held out her hand.

Rolan dropped the box while wiggling his mandibles seductively again.

“Bugged? Spirits, I don’t think my ear canals would survive all the salacious conversations that will ensue with your young jealous lover over there.”

“Mhm. I believe you.”

“And why wouldn’t you? After all, I’m such a trustworthy guy, even Saren relies on me.”

Dmitri gave a confident chuckle.

“Relax, Jane. My tech-experts will go through it. And you, mister turian charm boat, won’t allure _me_ with brandishing those mandibles.”

“Wouldn’t dare to try, mister Basanov. How’s your father’s collection of ancient clocks? Still on the Citadel?”

“No, they are-.. Wait! How do you know my name? Or father’s clocks?” Dmitri looked perturbed.

“Ah, well. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of them, so sad. I’m sure there’ll be other fascinating antiques on the station. I’m quite the expert.”

“I will do research on your name, turian,” Dmitri said. “ If I do not like what I find, you may disappear.”

“You’ ll find nothing,” Rolan replied. “Nothing I don’t want you to find, at least. Until tomorrow, Shepard. Stay out of trouble.”

Rolan did a small bow, a surprising gesture for a turian, before he walked out.

A patter of footsteps drew nearer.

“Who was that!” Garrus and Decian chorused.

Shepard wiped the smile from her face and turned around.

“Who, that? My new biotics instructor.”

“That guy? He’s old! Ancient!”

“And creepy!”

“Probably a perv!”

“He purred at you!”

“He was barefaced!”

Dmitri shook his head and cut past the squabbling turians.

“Do not be silly, _boys_. Old Quarn had golden stripes on his mandibles. His long, strong mandibles.”  
“Very long,” Shepard echoed, and caught another set of offended glares. It was time to do some backtracking.

“All right, simmer down. Decian, it’s great to see you again.” She held out her palm discreetly, and he gave it a quick hug hidden from the Ravuna behind Dmitri’s enormous frame.

“I missed you so much,” he said muffled against her hear, and Shepard was convinced she also heard a short sniff. Great, now he was sniffing her in public to determine possible infidelity. Thanks, Garrus.

After he’d taken a step back, Decian’s eyes had softened and he flared his mandibles in a careful smile.

“I can’t stay, my uncle has me on a tight schedule, and I’m already late. Can I call you later?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t. Oh, and Garrus is starting C-sec too. Can you take him along, show him around or something?”

She flashed him a big enticing smile. Decian flicked his gaze between her and Garrus, torn between the need to pummel him into the ground and the desire to do his girlfriend a favor. The latter grudgingly won out.

“I guess I can make time for the newbie. For _your_ sake.”

Garrus hummed.

“No worries, old timer. Youth will soon outstrip you in every field.”

“Garrus..” Shepard tried to sound serious.

Dmitri laughed.

“That is funny, Vakarian. I like you. If you fuck up in C-sec, come work private security for me.”

“Dmitri...”

“Yes, yes. Be nice to your turians. Come, I need to get mercenary paid, omni-tool checked and krogan a room. So much work with you, Jane.”

“See you later, guys. No fighting.” She waved at Garrus and Decian while the latter was trying his best to control his animosity towards the former.

 

“So, what now,” Skogan said. “Any ideas? I got to the Citadel, but I don’t have any credits. Think I can get a job somewhere? I actually wanted to study..”

“I take care of that,” Dmitri said. “You helped my demented little sis, I make arrangement for studies.”

“I’m not demented, you Russian rube. Skogan, studies are fine, but you might wanna, I don’t know, learn to fight too? Krogans can be confrontational.”

“I don’t really like fighting,” Skogan said.

“You ate an eye,” Shepard reminded him.

“That was.. in the heat of the moment.”

“Right.. Listen, if Dmitri gets you into school, then I can arrange some fight training, krogan style. Okay?”

Skogan looked skeptical.

“Uh, no?”

“Then we are all agreed,” Shepard said, ignoring him. “I know a guy who knows a guy.”

“Is this guy big and red and scary?” Dmitri chuckled.

“Might be. Dmitri, Eriela, I’m heading over to the medical clinic for a checkup. Can you check that tool and send it with a messenger to Chora’s Den?”

“Didn’t you say the clinic,” Eriela said innocently.

“I have to see a guy about a krogan. That’s his usual haunt.”

Dmitri crossed his bulging forearms. “Fine, I send to Den. But then you go to flat! Promise!”

Shepard let the air out of her lungs in a big sigh.

“Yes, dad. I’ll behave.”

“Good. Go to clinic. Eriela, I have question from Shepard about your friends..”

“Ey, whattabout me, eh?”

Zaeed had reached his limit.

“Come with me, little yellow man, you will get paid,” Dmitri said and hauled the mercenary after him by the shoulder. Shepard heard Zaeed protesting all the way through the gate, but Dmitri was relentless. He hadn’t forgotten the story of the fighting pit of Korlus.

 

**2176 CE – October 18 th – Medical Clinic – 14:25 PM**

The dim blue lighting in the clinic was familiar to Shepard, and even more familiar was the salarian who greeted her.

“Shepard! I can’t believe you’re here. Oh, I can believe my own eyes, but, you know. Idiom. Castor is so thrilled. Don’t be angry he told me, I haven’t told anyone. Besides the scar and the severed ear, are you healthy? Looks thin. Biotics have to eat. You can go into shock. I’ll tell the doctor. Mordin is expecting you, but he wants me to run some short tests first.”

Ravarn had to breathe, and Shepard greeted him with a hearty handshake.

“Hi, buddy. Good to be back.”

“Oh, I hope it is. I was saddened to see the newsreel about your death, and-.. Oh my.. Who’s your friend?”

A large shadow fell over the both of them as Skogan lumbered into the room.

“Medical facility,” Skogan said. “Do you think they can check my shell? I still haven’t got any credits.”

“Ravarn, this is a friend of mine, we were captives together. Can you charge the changing of his shell -gel to my mother? I’ll vouch-..”

Ravarn waved her off.

“It’s easily done. We do some charity work for those poor wretches of the lower wards too.”

“Wretch?” Skogan growled, and the salarian backed away.

“I, uh, didn’t mean any offense , I just meant that we have clients of all kinds, some can afford our treatment and others can’t, doctor Mordin does a lot of charitable work, he wants to help the needy, not that you look needy, or, perhaps now you do, but later, I’m sure you can-..”

“Slow down, Ravarn. Skogan, he didn’t mean to be rude. He just talks a lot. And he’s my friend. Like you are.”

Skogan twitched his snout, fighting the innate krogan need to pummel salarians. Ravarn had the unusual good grace to shut up for ten seconds. At last, Skogan relaxed.

“Friends. Friends are good.”

“Yes! Yes! We are friends too, right?” the salarian piped.

“Uhrrrmm.”

His hesitation earned him an elbow from Shepard.

“Ow, yes, friends,” he said finally.

“Great! Great! Wait here, and I’ll be with you in a moment. Shepard, in here, please. Oh, look, there’s Castor. Hi, Castor!”

The door whooshed shut, and Castor entered.

“Hey, Ravarn, Shepard. Uh… Skogan, was it?”

“It was,” Skogan said and turned his eyes to the visitor snack bowl. It wouldn't last long, Shepard figured.

“Do you mind if Castor tags along? He’s always interested in our equipment here.”

“No problem,” Shepard said.

Castor lit up.

“Thanks, Shepard. We have a lot of medical gear on board, but doctor Mordin is a specialist.”

“You know about him?”

“Ravarn tells me things.”

“I’m sure he does.”

 

* * *

 

The test were a series of blood tests, breathing tests, reflex test and then a cleaning and repair to her amp connector. The latter was done in a sound proof room with safety glass, because of the danger of biotic discharges. The speaker was sound out only, so Castor could take notes for Ravarn, but nothing he said could disturb Ravarn in his delicate work.

“Grave damages to the treads of the connector, oh dear. I have to change those. Lots of dirt. A happy thing you haven’t caught an infection. I’ll fix this in a jiffy.”

The old connector clinked on the metal tray beside her, and Shepard shivered when the salarian started reinsertion of the new one. The room was cold, and Ravarn’s fingers were even colder.

“Sit still now. Only a little while longer. By the way, I must say I’m fascinated by your species.”

“Why?”

Ravarn chuckled.

“The images you sent Castor? A year ago? Naked human males? Very good looking hind quarters. Salarians are not used to hair in that area. Turians neither. I wonder if it has a scent.”

Behind the glass, Castor was shouting to Ravarn to keep his mouth shut, but he had his back turned. Only Shepard had view to his silent mouthing off. She grinned at Castor.

“Do go on, Ravarn.”

“Really? This is a fascinating subject. You see, Castor and I have been downloading some interesting human vids when he has shore leave. They are very inventive, we tried some new things. Castor likes the.. what do you call it? Feather duster? The neighbors complained about the screeching.”

On the outside, Castor hung his head in embarrassment. Shepard knew she was being mean, but this was too hilarious.

“Yeah, I remember what you said about turians and tickling.”

“Indeed. We even found this little specialty shop in a discreet corner of Zakera wards, and-...”

By now, Castor was frantically banging on the glass, but Ravarn was completely oblivious and happily sharing the newest purchases of the Zilern/Sorio household. After ten more minutes, the amp connector was repaired. When they left the room, Castor glared at her with narrow yellow eyes.

“Not. One. Word. Ever!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Or, maybe in my dreams..”

“Your test are fine,” he said and pushed the clipboard in her free arm. “Go see the doctor.”

“Castor? Don’t be rude to our friend,” Ravarn said disapprovingly.

“I feel betrayed,” Castor said to no one in particular.

“Later, Castor, Ravarn.”

Shepard knocked on the door to doctor Mordin’s office and entered, while a discussion about privacy erupted behind her.

 

“Shepard. Good to see you. Impressive that you survived. More impressed on dealings with Spectre. Will be astounded if information contains what I need.”

Shepard put the backpack down.

“What you need? What, or who, are you looking for?”

“Rogue geneticist. Defector from STG research branch.”

“Are you telling me this because you’re going to kill me later?”

“Would make quite the mess in my research notes. No, think you are groomed for recruitment. Saren not stupid.”

“Recruitment? For what?”

Mordin blinked. “Said too much. Datapad?”

She handed it over and told him the password. He gave her a smile.

“Typical. Batarian male confidence. Aggravated by position of captaincy, never thought to be captured. Explosive devices?”

“Maybe. Don’t really know,” she admitted.

“Hmm. Saren’s intel maybe faulty. Happens rarely.”

“I bet. Some people are just liars. ”

She waited while the good doctor skimmed through the files. He paced around the room like a madman, then suddenly stopped.

“Hah! Knew it! No longer on Citadel. Would have found by now. Working with batarians. Troublesome. Could be worse. Not working with other disgruntled salarians, at least.”

“Are you talking about Saleon?”

“Indeed. High intelligence, no conscience. Making huge strides in combining dextro and levo compatibility. Also greedy. Working for Solem Dal’serah. Wants Saren’s eye. Revenge for making him partially blind. Batarian species interesting, only one type of cone cell in each eye. Must have all four for seeing every color. Also some moronic thing about souls.”

“Uh, right. How about my tests?”

“Yes, tests. Reflexes, a little faster despite muscle loss. Lacking vitamins and minerals. Cause, food deprivation. Surprisingly high oxygen uptake. Well trained. High levels of cortisol. Stress hormone. Need to de-stress. Unfortunately, coincides with need for focus training. Straining on the nervous system. Have means available for sexual gratification?”

He set those black eyes in her, and Shepard felt like a child again, being admonished for misbehaving. Except this time, it was for _not_ misbehaving.

“Ehrm, yes.”

“Good. Avail yourself of that. Also, no arguing outside training, must relax as well as can be done.”

“Yes, doctor.”

“Krogan outside friend of yours?”

“Yep. He was caught by slavers, like me.”

“Hmm.. Very odd. Humans and krogans and turians and even salarians. The company you keep, Shepard. Strange.”

“Problem? ”

“Not disapproving. Merely pointing it out.”

“Okay. Is that all?”

“Not all. Informed by Saren on your mental condition. Can be of assistance. Have emergency tranquilizers here. If situation is safe, you can inject yourself. Here.”

Mordin rummaged through a cabinet, and pulled out five injectors.

“Only works about 15 minutes, should be enough to stop aggressive fugue state.”

Shepard shifted uneasily. She wasn’t too fond of tranq’ed anymore. Gods knew Zaeed had done that enough times on the scout ship.

“I guess they can be of help.”

“Not guess. Professional medical opinion. Goodbye, Shepard. Suspect we will not meet for a long time.”

“Goodbye, doctor Mordin. Godspeed on your hunt.”

She gave him a short nod, which he returned.

When she walked out the door, she could hear him mumbling about shipping out all his little specimen jars back to Sur’Kesh.

 

**2176 CE – October 18 th – Outside Chora’s Den – 17:55 PM**

“Shepard, are you sure about this? Your friend might’ve forgotten?”

“No, he hasn’t. Dmitri is extremely organized, even if he comes off a bit intense. There! See? Told you.”

A messenger appeared in the gateway from the wards, saw them and headed straight for Shepard.

“J.S? Got a package for you. Prepaid, all you need do is sign.”

“Thanks. Did it contain a message?”

“Nope, just the package. Thanks, lady.”

Shepard unwrapped the box and slid the omni-tool bracelet on her arm. It immediately activated, preset for her old settings. Shepard changed the password and looked at months full of unanswered messages.. It suddenly hit home how near she’d been to never come back.

“Are you all right?” Skogan asked. “You look like you’ve stared into the void.”

“Somehow, I think I did.” She shook her head. “I’ll revel in self pity later. Right now, I’ll buy you a drink or two, so you’ll be occupied while I ask a friend for a favor.”

 

The inside of the Den lived up to its name, loud, sweaty and smelling of alien body odors and lust. Skogan was a wide-eyed wonder, and Shepard had to remind herself that he was still a small town krogan, fresh and gullible in the big city.

“Hey, gorgeous, wanna dance,” an asari said as she sidled up to Skogan.

He looked bewildered. “Uh, Shepard?”

“Right now, I’m the one with the credits, honey,” Shepard told the asari, whom then shimmied her blue butt up to her and gave her a sultry stare.

“And what can I get you, warrior?”

“Some drinks for my friends. No other favors right now.”

The asari looked offended, but nevertheless took Skogan to the bar. He glanced back with an alarmed look. Dreaming of the azure was one thing, meeting the real deal was another.

Shepard scanned the bar scene for a familiar face, and as she turned to the back, she heard a recognizable guffaw. It was Wrex. Plowing through the masses to get to the back lounge was a chore and the flashing lights were irritating her eyes, but she persevered. She passed Wreav on the way, but he was too busy arguing with the turian bartender to notice. A few more dodges and evading another randy asari, she reached the krogan of the hour.

“Hey Wrex. Long time no see.”

Wrex turned his head, blinked far to many times for comfort, then rose to his feet and measured her up and down.

“You look like her. And smell like hear. But, and this is a big but, I know for a fact she’s dead.”

“How, the news reel? Since when do you trust official Citadel channels?”

“Heh heh , right. Welcome home, kid.”

“Thanks. It’s rather surreal, being back. I was rather prepared for dying out there.”

“I heard some training mission went wrong. Again. Never far from trouble, you.”

"You might call it training. It was supposed to be my last mission before becoming an N7. Guess that never happened. We rescued the damsel in distress, but I was caught by some krogan named Krakk. Heard of him?”

The glass of ryncol traveling upwards to Wrex’s maw stopped.

“Krakk? Arlas Krakk?”

“I guess you’ve met.”

“We have,” Wrex growled. “Guy’s got no honor. No instinct. Always exceeds mission parameters, kills for pleasure and not for credits. Allies with any alien who pays him, no matter if he goes against personal oath. Breaks sacred law. Scum!”

“Add slaver to that, and we’re almost there,” Shepard said.

Wrex cocked his head and made a note of the right side of her face.

“Did he do the ear? He likes that sort of thing.”

“Fed it to a varren. Hurt like hell.”

The glass broke in Wrex’s hand, and small pieces of it tinkled down on the table.

“Fuck, Shepard. I’ll get some feelers out. We’ll find him.”

“Thanks, but that was not the favor I was looking for. I was placed in a cell alongside a young krogan, a Weyrloc, and he had been in captivity far longer than me.”

“A young male? Damn.. I can guess based on reputation,” Wrex growled.

“I wish I could tell you you’re wrong, but yes.”

Shepard thumbed towards the bar.  
“He’s here. I’ve never met a krogan like that, says he likes to read and doesn’t like fighting.”

“Not gonna last long here, is he?” Wrex sighed.

“My thoughts exactly. Unless some dreaded old battlemaster takes him under his wing and teaches him a few tricks.”

“What? Are you kidding? Shepard, if he’s what you say he is, he’s as good as dead! Tuchanka has no need of a soft krogan.”

“He’s not soft, he fucking ate the eye of a batarian slave captain I’d ripped out.”

“He ate the eye you ripped out?”

“Yeah, and he saved me from getting shot by the turians. He’s worth the hassle. If it’s about money, I can pay you.”

Wrex stared at her for a long time.

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

“Forget it. I’ll watch your krogan for you, keep him out of trouble.”

“Okay, great. Now, there’s another matter.”

She pulled off the backpack, and Wrex rolled his eyes.

“Another favor?”

“Yes, and no. Do you recognize this?” She pulled out the old battered armor.

For the second time that evening, Wrex went completely still. The red reptilian eyes flicked between the human and the armor. Finally he found his voice.

“Where did you get that?”

“I stole it, from a turian named Tonn Actus. I noticed the Urdnot clan symbol, so I filched it from a display case.”

“Is Tonn dead?”

“I don’t know. The whole building collapsed on us shortly after.”

Wrex looked at her with an inscrutable expression.

“What do you intend to do with it?”

“If it belongs to the Urdnots, I planned to hand it over to you. If it’s a replica, I guess it’s just trash.”

“It’s not a replica,” Wrex growled. “It’s my grandfather’s armor. Last worn by Jarrod. Old bastard was a warlord. He lived through the turian wars.”

Shepard had never heard Wrex so bitter. It was almost like she wasn’t there anymore.

“Back on Tuchanka, I had a tribe. New ideas, new plan for our people. But he was old, too old to change. Or so I thought, until he invited us all to a meeting on neutral ground, a Crush. Should’ve known better. Even at the Hollows, a sacred burial site for our ancestors, he broke our laws and attacked us.”

“You didn’t see it coming?”

“I did!” Wrex growled. “But when your father invites you to a Crush, the sacred laws says you gotta go.”

“Father..? Damn.. What happened next?”

“They jumped from the graves like krogan undead. Only I survived. But not until I struck my father in the chest with my dagger. Old bastard deserved it.”

Wrex took another shot of ryncol and pointed at the armor.

“It’s a relic, really. Taken off my grandfather after the war with the turians. There’s where a turian assassin tried to go for his hearts. He missed. After the war and they stripped the old krogan of our clan’s armor, that struck much deeper than those knife holes. After killing Jarrod, I had to flee from Tuchanka, but before I left, I made a vow to my father’s father. I would recover the ancient battle armor of my family, or never return.”

He broke from his memories and stared at her, almost aggressively. “And here you are, armor in hand, just handing it over.”

“Wrex, calm down. I’m not expecting a prize for it. You’re doing me a favor with Skogan, and I happened to find your family armor and returned it. Favor among friends.”

“Hmmm.. Never actually heard a human calling a krogan friend before and mean it. Sure you’re not chipped? You’re certainly saying strange shit.”

“Whatever, krogan heathen. Keep the armor. Come meet my other krogan friend.”

“The freakish reader, yeah, I remember.” He scooped up the old battered armor and clutched it like a box of Eezo.

Out in the bar, Skogan was still on his first drink. He waved uncertainly to Shepard when they approached, and Wrex groaned.

“How am I gonna keep that alive?”

“A promise is a promise,” Shepard smiled.

“Skogan, this is my friend Urdnot Wrex, and his brother Wreav is skulking around here somewhere.”

“Whelp,” Wrex said in greeting.

“Shepard’s ancient friend,” Skogan replied.

“Okay, so maybe a little more tact, even for krogans will be-..”

Shepard was interrupted by a gaggle of giggling asari almost skipping through the door. She counted at least four.

“Sheeepaaaard? There you are!”

“Eriela sent us?”

“Said you had a hunk for us?”

“A young hunk,” one of them said and looked at Wrex.

“Uh, yeah. Ladies, this is Skogan, he’s a bit shy, so don’t scare him away, okay?”

Skogan stared at her like she’d just pushed him out the air lock.

“Uuuuhhh...”

“Ooh, he looks nice.”

“Big scar on the shell. Adorable.”

“Don’t be handsy, Maribel, I get to go first.”

They flocked around him in a hail of giggles, and Wrex glanced sideways at her.

“Good idea. Kid needs some new experiences after that bastard. Very krogan of you.”

“Favor for a friend.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that a lot today.”

After five minutes, Skogan politely pushed his way out of the admiring ring of asari, and walked up to Shepard. He bent down and whispered in her ear.

“I think they’re trying to kidnap me.”

“Good. They can escort you to your new place. Don’t worry, they are friends of Eriela, and Eriela is a friend of mine.”

“One of them rubbed my hump,” he whispered. “What do you think that means?”

“I think it means she wants to rub you all over. Go with the girls, Skogan. It’ll be a night to remember.”

“Uuuhh, I don’t know.”

“Doesn’t want it? I’ll go instead,” Wrex chuckled.

“Ehrm, no, I’ll go, I just.. Come find me tomorrow, okay? In case they steal me?”

“I’ll find you, don’t worry.”

Skogan then let himself be led out by the asari. He cast one worried look back before he was gone.

“Some favors you do, Shepard. Why didn’t I get that?”

“Because you wanted the old crusty armor. Thank you for this. I’m really getting tired, and better return to my place. Bye, Wrex.”

“Bye, Shepard.”

 

* * *

 

After she’d left, Wreav came up beside his brother.

“How much did you hear?” Wrex said.

“Most of it. Why you told that old tale to Shepard is beyond me.”

“That’s because you have no conception of family history, oaf.”

“So, what? Are we going back now? Grandpa is still alive, last I heard.”

“Maybe. I need to talk to some folks. Get the tribe together.”

Wreav groaned. “That went so well last time.”

“This time father’s not there, spreading bad ideas. I just need to do some things here first. Set up some protection for that little Weyrloc of hers, for instance.”

“Does she know what the eye-eating meant?” Wreav chuckled. “A human in a krantt with a krogan. Too bad it’s such a weakling.”

“The human or the krogan?” Wrex growled.

“The krogan. Did you see him with the asari? Hardly knew which way was up.”

“He’ll know by the end of the day,” Wrex said dismissively. “Are you still owed that favor by Barla Von?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Call it in. It’s time we started thinking about the future.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weee, I got done early, and Thursday is the annual celebration of getting old and decrepit, yay! I can practically hear my bones creak. :)


	59. Getting patched up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard spends her first day with a charming older turian, and the Alliance has a few surprises of its own

  **2176 CE – October 18 th – Dmitri’s old Flat – 20:45 PM**

At long last, Shepard had arrived back at her new place. When she closed the door behind her, the facade fell and she slumped down on the nearby sofa. Everything was a chore, smiling when she wanted to shut everything out, walking out among people when all she wanted was a moment’s peace. Now she also had to spend the first night alone in a long time, no Garrus whispering calming words and offering support. Decian couldn’t drop everything to run over every time she felt lonely. She really had to to stop relying on Garrus so much. When she bent down to undo her boots, the applicators from Mordin clinked in her pocket as a reminder.

“Don’t need it yet,” Shepard said to convince herself.

Instead, she closed her eyes and tried to remember her breathing exercises from her N7 courses. It felt like an age ago, but the basics had been drilled into her by her instructor. All those infernal repetitions, and now she understood why. Shepard recited the words, held and released her breath, and after 20 minutes had passed, was relaxed enough to order food.

A mere ten minutes later, her sushi arrived at the front door. The delivery guy was a tall human with a friendly smile. Shepard gave him a generous tip when she transferred the credits, and he gave her a grin and both thumbs up. The raised hands made her drop the food carton and jump back, fists raised.

“Whoa, whoa, easy, lady. No weapons, see? Bye!” he almost screamed before he ran out.

Shepard took several deep breaths. _‘That was fucking great. No more sushi for you, Jane.’_

The fallen carton was picked up and placed on the table before she fetched some ice cubes for her juice. They were the only remaining foodstuffs in the cooler. Dmitri had cleaned this place out good before he left.

The meal was consumed in contemplative silence, but she sent a standard message of arriving at the Citadel to her family and friends. Hannah’s message was returned with a standard ‘out-of-range’ reply, which told Shepard her mother was currently on a mission. Garrus’ reply came immediately, asking if she was doing all right, and hinted at him missing his human pillow. Sneaky turian. She finished up the rest of the carton and cleaned the utensils. Another reply came in, it was from uncle David. He’d written a long and hearty message about how relieved he was, and that he was to see her tomorrow when she reported to the Embassy late afternoon. The Alliance wanted her to get a good nights rest. Good on the Alliance, Shepard thought. Too bad Rolan had other ideas. Only after getting to bed did Decian reply. His uncle was still keeping a close watch on him, and he couldn’t call right now. She declined his offer of calling in the middle of the night. Sleep was paramount, even more than she needed to talk to her boyfriend. Decian’s disappointment was almost palpable, but it couldn't be helped. They’d have to kiss and make up later. Shepard rolled on her back. The shadows in the room was unfamiliar, and she could almost hear the whispers again. They’d been in the background, like static from a radio for some time, but Garrus’ presence always drowned them out. Since that was no longer an option, she had to deal with them on her own. Or maybe.. She looked down on the floor to her pants. The bulge in the pocket showed five cylindrical shape. Maybe just this once?

One injector was freed from the fabric, and Shepard stared at it. This was not what Mordin had intended them for, but he wasn’t here. It was her first night alone. And it would only be this once. Only once. She jabbed the stinger in her arm and laid back. A strong sensation of numbness spread to every limb. Shepard closed her eyes and allowed this new friend to swallow her whole.

 

**2176 CE – October 19 th – Dmitri’s old Flat – 06:59 AM**

“SHEPARD!”

The shrill outcry made her roll out of the bed to land on her feet, one fist balled and the other sparkling with biotic flares. The fact that she was pretty much naked didn’t even register.

“What is THIS?”

The shouting was from Rolan Quarn, her new mentor. He held up an empty injector and pointed it at her.

“Did you break in here?” Shepard said accusingly.

“Don’t stray from the subject, Shepard! How long have you been using?”

“I got that yesterday, and you’re breaking into my place, old man.”

Rolan exhaled.

“How foolish. How incredibly foolish of you. I bet you used this to sleep? Any kind of stim use will make my job so much harder.”

“I got from the doctor that in case I had a fit later, all right?”

“Did you have a fit?”

Shepard and Rolan glared at each other.

“Not really, no,” she finally admitted.

“As I suspected.” Rolan drew his breath and exhaled again. When he met her eyes again, he was again the smiling rogue from yesterday.

“At least I caught this early. You didn’t know, but no more. Not stims, not depressants, no blockers, nothing.”

“And if I have that fit?”

“I’ll simply charm you back to your senses.”

Shepard took down her hands. “Sorry, that position is taken.”

“So I heard. And not by the boyfriend. Dearie me. It’s a safe bet he’s not thrilled by that.”

“No takers. Back to my first topic, you’re breaking and entering. I was warned you might be a perv, and lo and behold..” she said and swathed herself in a sheet.

Rolan laughed, a smooth flanging chortle that made Shepard think about.. things.

“Not at all,” he said. “Your alarm was set to go off an hour ago, I merely came to see if you were still alive. I never expected you to prance around naked.”

“Alarm? What alarm? And I don't prance.”

“You’ve been ordered a healthy breakfast, and we’re going out to test your threshold around other people.”

The omni-tool bracelet around her wrist vibrated.

“Ah, see? A bit late, but you know what they say.”

“Curiosity killed the turian?”

“I’m afraid I’ve never heard that one before,” Rolan said and shooed her to the kitchen. “ I have heard the one about counting which chicken have fertilized your eggs.”

“Hey!”

“Calm down, I was just impressed one stoner took down two birds.”

Shepard rolled her eyes and checked content of a bag on the counter.

“Enough with the idiom-butchering. What healthy breakfast are you talking about? This is.. porridge?”

“It’s a special grain concoction from your salarian friend at the clinic. The babbling one. He said it contains all the vitamins and minerals a recovering body needs. Eat up, I’ll be watching you.”

Shepard grimaced. “This is cruel and unusual punishment.” 

“Really? I bet I can be more inventive later, ” Rolan said, adding a bit of wiggling mandible action.

“Have you been following me?”

“Yes. Less chatting and more eating.”

“Great. Another stalker,” she grumbled and ate the sludge straight from the box.

“Such table manners,” Rolan sighed. “We’ll have to add another day just for that.”

“Fine cutlery and which fork goes to what fish?”

“Precisely. I can’t be seen in public with such a coarse human.”

Shepard couldn't hold back a smile. A persnickety turian. There was a first time for everything.

“I also see your friend has deleted all my software from the omni-tool, besides the alarm clock. His people are more efficient than I gave them credit for.”

Rolan smiled. “Would you allow me to reinstall some of them? The health monitor will be helpful to identify the run-up to your problems.”

“And what exactly are you monitoring?”

“Pulse, perspiration, breathing, a number of other helpful markers.”

“That’s rather vague.”

“Be brave, Shepard. I’m such a nice guy, you can trust me.”

She laughed and held out her wrist. “All right, but any sign of foul play and I’m deleting everything.”

Rolan’s only reply was a snarky purr.

 

**2176 CE – October 19 th – Flux – 10:01 AM**

“Is this really the right place to start?”

Shepard had to shout to be heard over the music.

“Why not? I need to see how much stress you can deal with, not to mention deal with enough stress on my own. Is that the human chicken dance? Are the flailing for my benefit?”

Despite his friendly smile, Shepard stopped dancing immediately and began retreating from the dance floor. This hadn’t been her idea, and it wasn’t news to her that she couldn't dance unless very drunk. Or rather, by then she was too drunk to care if she weren’t quite in sync with the tune.

“Shepard wait,” Rolan said, but was intercepted by a large female krogan.

“Is he available?” she growled in a friendly way.

“All yours,” Shepard said with an inviting gesture.

“Now, wait a minute..”

“You wouldn't be rude to a lady, would you, turian?” Shepard said with a wolfish grin as Rolan was pulled into a rock hard bosom and forced to sway and spin to a slow love song.

“It never crossed my mind,” he said with a forced smile.

Shepard retreated to the bar, and ordered a shot of ryncol. The bartender pretended not to examine her face for age. Not that it mattered, she looked a lot older after the last months. One hour of dancing and mingling were getting on her nerves and giving her a head ache, but not to the point where she wanted to tear someone’s head off, unless she counted Rolan and his last remark.

Still, she had to give credit where credit was due. Shepard had never ever seen a krogan actually get dipped while dancing. For a second she thought it was just a trick of the light, but she caught Rolan wincing as he almost pulled a muscle in his back hauling her up. Hilarious. A quick snap of the shutter, and then a holo was forwarded to her inner circle.

When Rolan had managed to escape the amorous krogan and found her, she’d switched to beer.

“Drinking, Shepard?”

“You ditched me for a hoe, I had to do something to ease my pain.”

With a flick of a talon, he opened his omni-tool.

“ _Subject does well on dealing with public spaces_ _and large crowds_ _._ _Little_ _sign of stress. Subject_ _also_ _has a mean streak.”_

The omni-tool closed.

“Ordinary situations doesn’t seem to faze you. When do you feel a situation gets out of hand? Any common traits? ”

Shepard took another sip of the beer while she thought about it.

“Aggression. Pain. Threat of violence. That sort of thing. OW!”

On her wrist, a single drop of blood drew up from the skin. The empty injector from yesterday was the cause, and Rolan the culprit.

“Like that?”

Shepard put the beer on the other side of the bar.

“Don’t. I can’t control myself if you push too far.”

“That’s the point. I saw some impressive scars this morning. How about a talon slash?”

He held up two talons as if ready to strike. Shepard had an involuntary spasm in her arm.

“Stop. That is a lot of memories, all of them bad.”

“But that is the point. Unless you face them, when will you control them, instead of them controlling you?”

“Right here and now? That’s dangerous.”

“Where else? Are you locked up and alone when on a military ship?”

Rolan slowly reached over and placed a talon on Shepard's forearm.

“Feeling all right? Think you can hold it?”

“Not sure.” Her hand was flat on the table, and she could sense her palm getting sweaty real fast.

“It’s just a small test,” Rolan said.

His talon began traversing down her arm with increasing downward pressure. Shepard saw the talon pass over old scars, first a small line of scratched skin, then a small welt line. Without noticing it, she’d begun to breathe faster. Rolan watched her face, but she was transfixed on the talon. The slow decent down her arm had begun as a touch, then a scratch, deepened into a sharp pull on her skin, and she waited, wide eyed and worried for when it broke the skin. The feeling of pressure was closing in on painful, and the anticipation made her eyes start to flicker. A brief shimmer of biotic power appeared around her other hand.

“That’s.. that’s.. that’s...” she tried.

“Enough,” Rolan said and broke their contact. “Interesting. You’ve already learned to recognize the triggers when they happen. Although I must admit, the eye thing is a bit of a dead giveaway.”

“Thanks,” Shepard snapped and rubbed her arm. “Did you learn anything useful, or are you just here to mock me.”

“Here to help, mostly. Analyzing the data from your omni-tool later will give more specific data. I think we’ll start where your training went wrong in the first place. Combat training. You need to develop familiarity with the technique, and then confidence in yourself.”

That was a first, Shepard thought.

“You think I lack confidence? I’ve heard the opposite.”

“I think, Shepard, that you hide a number of insecurities behind a glib front. If I had a brain that could turn against me at a moment’s notice, I’d do the same.”’

Shepard finished her drink and sighed. “I don’t think I like you anymore.”

“I’m not here to be liked, I’m here to be adored. Follow me.”

 

**2176 CE – October 19 th – The Infiltrator – 14:56 PM**

“So the Blue Suns are amassing an impressive fleet of privateers, on call at a moment’s notice,” Saren said as he swiped through the report from Mordin Solus. “Can we identify these loose chapters?”

“Unfortunately, no,” the salarian replied. “Lucky to find Captain Vorhess’ codes. Clearly not expecting death. If not acquired under said circumstances, would think it a trap.”

“Unfortunate for the captain, yes,” Saren said absentmindedly. “We’ve made some interesting finds in that ruin. Actus’ collection contained a number of prothean artifacts, and a dead and disfigured batarian. Identity confirmed; Orpin Vorhess.”

“The human is reliable, then,” Mordin said. “Not averse to working with aliens or turians, despite family history.”

“Too fond of turians for my liking,” Saren said. “It’s unsettling.”

“Works for Shepard. Very inventive, circumvented chafing on one’s own. Turian and human pairing unusual. Unsettled or not, could become a potential ally.”

Saren waved his hand dismissively. “Too young.”

The large holographic face of Mordin flashed Saren a long row of white teeth.

“For now. Not to soon to make foundation for future cooperation.”

“Let’s not stray too far from the subject, doctor. The geneticist, any lead?”

“Advanced research on combining a dextro eye with a levo optical nerve. Difficult. Almost overcame the chirality question. Should have consulted other expert.”

Saren looked up. “Could he use my eye to attain back Solem’s vision?”

“Possibly, but doubtful if it would work properly. Turian eye can see all colors, batarian’s eye a few. Would be color compatibility failures. Likely nausea and space distortion, blank spots in line of sight.”

“Didn’t Saleon realize this?”

“Repeatedly stated in report. Doubt batarian cared. The vengeance aspect plays big part in this plan.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Saren chuckled. “Poor Solem. I might have to put him out of his misery.”

“There is another issue,” Mordin said. “Not stated in the written report. Not safe.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Vorhess’ log states that Solem occasionally received couriers from Apien Crest cluster. Some are pirates. Others suspiciously well informed and outfitted.”

That made Saren put down the datapad and start tapping his talons on the desk.

“Messages from home, well, well, well. I wonder.. Does this coincide with my old friend’s inspection tours?” Saren twitched his mandibles. “Hmm. Doubt he’d be that sloppy . He’s been playing his part well, old Despan. But now things are set in motion. Solem is getting more careless. If he’s replaced, someone will be forced to take up his mantle. Would they sacrifice Despan’s position?”

“I doubt it,” Mordin said. “Too high placed.”

“And yet, our hidden enemy will be forced to change his plans.”

“Ideas?”

Saren flared his mandibles, sarcasm and wit completely gone from his visage.

“Plenty. None of them pleasant. I’ll teach that batarian upstart a thing or two about fear.”

The cold smile he received from the former STG-operative was no less frightening.

“Saleon is my target. Must be dealt with. Happy hunting, old friend.”

 

**2176 CE – October 19 th – Human Embassy – 18:23 PM**

The eternal bright light in the embassies was cutting into Shepard’s tired eyes like she was staring straight into the sun. The private gym had been another form of hell. She and Rolan had sparred for hours. Whenever he managed to land a painful blow, they’d stopped and waited until her elevated pulse had normalized. Start. Stop. Start. Stop. Shepard had been on the brink to trance so many times today she’d lost count. Whenever she had the teeniest eye flicker, he’d made her stand completely still and do breathing exercises, while he amicably chatted about things like the right colors for a bedroom, or different kinds of fish on Taetrus. The boring and mundane drones actually helped calm her down, but it had been difficult. More difficult than she believed possible, but she’d also discovered another trigger, perhaps the original one. Fear. Whenever Rolan landed a strike, she always expected another, even when he’d promised not to follow up. Rather, she feared it. Always another slash, another hit, another punch, continuing until she was bleeding on the floor. That had been her first meeting with a turian instructor, and it still lingered in her reflexes. No matter what he’d shouted earlier that day, Shepard had noticed the injectors from Mordin was still in his suit pocket. There was no point in demanding them back, but she felt oddly safer for knowing Rolan had the means to knock her out if he needed it.

The passing dignitaries hardly gave her a second glance, but her training told her she was being closely observed nonetheless. Rolan was somewhere in the foyer outside, trying to charm the asari receptionist. It was like a hobby to him more than anything else. When she’d left him a few minutes ago, the asari was already swooning.

The door leading to ambassador Udina’s office opened, and a clerk told her to enter. Inside was Udina himself, David Anderson and an Alliance admiral Shepard knew from his frequent appearances on the news reels. _Steven Hackett._

“Jane,” David said warmly and gave her a hug. “My god, you look terrible.”

“Thanks, uncle. Uh, David? Uh, captain Anderson?”

Then she remembered herself, and saluted admiral Hackett.

Hackett chuckled. “Relax, Shepard. Nobody’s expecting you to be all formal until you’re healed and reinstated. That is, if you want to be?”

“Back in the marines? Hell yes!”

“What else,” David smiled. “Your doctor has sent us an update on your status. I believe there will be several months of physical therapy needed for a full recovery, and of course there is the mandatory debriefing and evaluations necessary to determine fitness.”

“I have no problem with that,” Shepard said. “I just want back in.”

“Excellent," Hackett said. “That’s what we all wanted to hear. Udina here has been talking about your resurrection as a boon for our recruitment, and with you being rescued by turians, we’re hoping to build some more official liaisons with the Hierarchy Fleet, not just burning bridges.”

“Are you referring to mom,” Shepard asked innocently.

“No comment,” Hackett smiled. “I will say that I have rarely seen a transfer of soldiers go this fast. You must’ve been on your best behavior on board the Ravuna.”

Shepard's smile became a little stiff. “Ahaha, yes. Of course. Wouldn’t dream of anything else.”

“Good. Now, for another great surprise. The mission that went awry was to be your last examination before becoming an N7. I’ve been in contact with lieutenant Coats and his captain. The official reports states that you were taken only after helping your team escape. Your team corroborate this, stating that your efforts made the rescue of Liara T’Soni possible, along with the escape of your team mates. That you were captured were not due to incompetence or failure to obey orders on your part. Therefore, it is with great joy I present you with the last certificate to the N-program. Congratulations, Shepard. You’re now officially alive and an N7.”

He handed her a small arm patch and a new set of credentials, then saluted. David also saluted and beamed proudly at her. Even Udina gave her a rare smile. Shepard almost couldn't believe her ears. After months of things going so very wrong, something finally went right.

“ I.. I… Thank you, sir,” was all she managed.

“Don’t thank me, you earned this. Whenever you’re fit to return to service, I’ll put in a good word for you wherever you land. Captain Anderson, good to see you. I must return to my ship. My regards to your mother, Shepard.”

“I’ll tell her, sir. Thank you.”

Hackett left, and David hugged her again. “Congratulations, Jane. No one deserves this more than you.”

“Thanks. I hadn’t considered I’d still be up for the patch.”

“You’d passed if you made it back the first time too, I was told.”

“Yes, yes, very well, very well. Can we now talk about our new recruitment drive,” Udina said sourly. “Despite our new overtures of friendship to the Hierarchy, the Alliance always needs more soldiers, and it’s your duty to assist.”

“All right,” Shepard said, grinning from ear to ear. The ambassador’s venomous mood didn’t matter to her. Even if Udina was a complete ass, even if Decian was forbidden to see her, even if some evil merc had severed her ear, she was now an N7! That had to be a sign that things were finally about to get better, even if the recovery would take time. Shepard soared. She’d done it!

_N7!_

Things was only going to get better from here on out.

_N – fucking – 7!_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, I almost didn't make the Friday deadline. Between getting sick, car breaking down and mandatory overtime, I've had almost no time to write. The chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but then again, the previous one was longer :D It evens out.


	60. Surprise visits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus sit down for a family dinner or two.

**2176 CE – November 02 nd  – Vakarian Residence, Citadel – 16:15 PM **

Usually at these family dinners, Garrus and his sister Solana spent most of the afternoon bickering about every little dish on the menu, but since she’d left for boot, he found himself missing his annoying little sis. Even worse, she kept sending back holos of new boyfriends every other week, to his great consternation. Solana’s taste in males was terrible in his opinion, and she’d probably only pick idiots unless he was there to weed the more undesirable ones out. He’d run every single one of the named boys through the C-sec database. So far, no hits, and yet, he wasn’t going to stop looking out for Sol, and nor was he going to reveal how protective he could be. It was a dirty job, but someone had to do it.

After he’d helped his mother with setting the dinner table, Garrus retreated to the couch and rechecked his mail. If Jane sent him any more messages, she’d get a speedy reply. They were chatting almost every day, but he’d been occupied with the academy, and she was doing exercises with that Rolan character. Garrus’ nose twitched just by thinking about him. Nothing in the C-sec database had revealed his background, but with Garrus’ knowledge of who’d sent Rolan, he hadn’t expected much. He swiped through the image gallery of Jane. The earliest ones, back from her training at Rio showed a grinning strong female, the first ones from the Citadel showed a specter of her former self. Still, somewhere inside, a fire still burned. Garrus chuckled when he looked at the ‘rescue’ holo from three weeks ago, when Jane had gone searching for her krogan friend and found him with his little asari harem. Their numbers had dwindled down to two, but the pair were so enamored by the strange young krogan that they’ d decided to keep him. When Jane came to liberate him, he’d been both happy to see her and affronted she tried to pry him from their bed. The holo was perfect, a large snarling krogan in the background and a small human grinning to the camera in the front, giving a thumbs up. She’d left him there after extracting a promise of him to go see Krutt, the owner of one of the largest gun ranges on the Citadel. Garrus and her had been there once, and he still remembered with exact clarity how she’d cheated him to win. It was a Shepard staple.

He kept swiping. The brunt of the holos were of her training and slow recovery. Whatever type of turian Rolan was, he appeared to help Jane. Garrus had to give him some credit for that, even though it was painfully obvious she enjoyed his presence a little too much. While it wasn’t a real curse, Garrus hoped Rolan’s back creaked after dancing with that krogan. A few images were of Jane and Ravarn, doing some shopping together or having a quiet drink. For some reason, Castor always sent a slew of messages whenever those two had been out somewhere. Garrus couldn't fathom why. Ravarn was only interested in males. Perhaps he and Jane discussed that common interest? Or maybe Castor was just paranoid. Either way, it was no big deal, and he told Castor as much. The medic didn’t sound convinced.

The one thing that gave Garrus some comfort, was that when he looked through all her holos, Jane’s face was filling out and she was smiling more often, even if he sometimes recognized the hollowness in her eyes he’d discovered on the Ravuna. Three weeks wasn’t a lot of time anyway, and she needed all the time the Alliance would give her.

Garrus had fixed one particular holo as an internal background on his omni-tool, the big smiling closeup of Jane and her new N7-patch. She looked genuinely happy, and he felt a small tightness in his chest when looking at her. He’d love to see her again, but he couldn’t really invite himself over. Or could he?

“What are you humming about over there, Garrus?”

His mother made her way over with a small live prawn and dropped it on a small desert tray. Garrus snatched up the little bugger with his talons and dropped it in his mouth. The taste was delicious.

“Well? I got you a bribe, tell me,” Vistilla smiled.

“Only looking at some holos of a friend, that’s all.”

Her mandibles flared. “A human friend?”

“Uh, maybe..?”

“I’m not your father, Garrus. I don’t mind. I was so pleased for your sake when she was found. You hadn’t been yourself for months before that.”

“I know,” he sighed. “I kept polishing the Volkov rifle over and over. I was so angry with myself for making her believe we weren’t friends, it felt like I was choking on bile.”

“I can’t say I don’t know the feeling, son. But she’s here now. Are you going to see her?”

“She has a-..”

“Boyfriend, yes, but you are friends, are you not? Perhaps.. more than friends?”

Garrus quickly looked up. “How did you know?”

“A mother always knows, Garrus. And you’ve been obsessing over that human for years, both when you hated her and now that you.. like her,” Vistilla finished with a smile.

“I’m that obvious, huh?”

“Only to me. Perhaps your sister, if she were here.”

“Spirits..”

“They won’t protect you from Solana if she thinks you’re interested in a human,” she laughed. “Come, your father is 2 minutes from home.”

 

* * *

 

“That _woman_ will be back soon. Can you imagine the paper trail she’ll leave if she doesn’t get her way?”

Galenus Vakarian was in the middle of his favorite complaint, which was of course the impending arrival of the admiral. The dinner had started out well, but Garrus hadn’t eaten anything, merely kept pushing the meat strips around the plate. This was not what he wanted to hear today.

“Darling, maybe not so much about the Shepards tonight, hmm? Why don’t you ask Garrus how his classes are going?”

“I already _know_ that,” Galenus said. “I get regular reports from his instructors. Our son is doing fine, love. And that despite having to spend a week on a ship with that woman’s daughter. I can’t even imagine the horrors you must’ve endured.”

“Sure you can’t,” Garrus said dourly. If his father knew his son had almost blown a load all over said admiral’s daughter, the prawn he was currently swallowing would get stuck in his gizzard.

“I’m sure Jane Shepard had other things to do besides being rude to our son,” Vistilla said. “That she survived at all is remarkable.”

“They promoted her, did you hear that? Another turian hater to the Alliance. Fantastic.”

Galenus took a drink from his beverage, and Garrus stared coldly at him.

“Jane doesn’t hate turians, dad. That’s just your imagination.”

Galenus looked bewildered. “Jane who?”

“Oh spirits.” Vistilla put her crest in her hands.

“Jane Shepard, dad. The admiral’s daughter? Her name is Jane, and she’s my friend.”

His words didn’t seem to sink in, because his father stared at him with a blank gaze.

“Garrus, are you ill?”

“I’m not sick, just irritated. You don’t know her, so don’t judge.”

“You’ve quarreled with her for years!”

“Not entirely true. We didn’t get along at first, but now.. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have beside me in a fight.”

Garrus thrummed, an open provocation, and Vistilla answered with a sharp trill.

“Garrus Vakarian, don’t you dare challenge your father. We can talk this out, like civilized people.”

“Our son has gone mad, Vistilla. He can’t be friends with.. that…that human.”

“You were going to say _thing_ , weren’t you?” Garrus voice was raised at least two notches too high for his mother’s liking.

“Both of you, calm down!”

Galenus turned to his mate. “Vistilla, have you lost your mind? You can’t possibly side with our son in this matter?”

“Don’t you turn this one on me, Galenus Vakarian. I’m trying to keep the peace, like I always do.”

“It’s those Shepards,” Galenus hissed. “They worm their way everywhere. Garrus, I forbid you to see her.”

Vistilla groaned.

“You can’t forbid me! I have a tier now!” Garrus barked.

“As long as you’re under my roof, you’ll follow my rules,” Galenus began, but Garrus was on his feet.

“Oh, spirits, not this again. My rules, my roof, my hind plates, whatever. Have it your way then, I’ll move out!”

“Where do you think you’ll find somewhere to sleep at this time of night? Your scholarship stipend isn’t for another week.”

“I have a friend I can ask,” Garrus snapped. “Bet she’s got room for a friend in need.”

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare, Garrus!” Galenus was almost shouting.

“See you later, mom,” Garrus said and stomped out. He grabbed his backpack with datapads for class and slammed the door when he left.

 

* * *

 

In the apartment, Vistilla crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. Galenus shrunk under her scrutiny.

“That… didn’t go the way I intended.”

“I have eyes and ears, darling. Instead of a nice family dinner, we now have a runaway son.”

“I’ll have someone in my department bring him back,” Galenus said.

“Are you really considering having goons from Citadel security barge in on Hannah Shepard’s only child? After what she’s been through, you’d be clawhammered in the newsreel tomorrow.”

Galenus sighed and sunk back on his chair.

“Then what do you suggest?”

“Let him cool off for a few hours, then I’ll call him. Jane Shepard has become a reasonable young female, she’ll talk him down.”

“You speak as if you’ve met her...”

“Did you want another fight tonight, my dear?”

Galenus knew that blue sparkle when he saw it, and he’d never won out against his mate when she gave him that evil eye.

“No fight, just a question,” he said meekly.

“Another time, Galenus. Now eat your dinner. It’s already cold.”

 

**2176 CE – November 02 nd – Dmitri’s old Flat – 18:12 PM**

On the walk over to her place, Garrus had simmered down a bit, but now he had nowhere else to go, and no credits on his chit. It was stupid and childish, but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer about his friendship with Jane, and he hoped he hadn’t miscalculated. Sleeping under an overpass didn’t tempt at all.

He rang the doorbell and waited for the intercom. It crackled before Jane’s voice was heard over the speaker.

“Hello?”

“Jane, it’s me, Garrus. I’ve just had a fight with my dad, can I come in?”

“Just a sec, I’ll buzz you in.”

The door clicked, and Garrus entered. The small flat was bright and cozy, but without all the trappings of a fully furnished house. It looked unfinished, like someone hadn’t made themselves completely at home yet.

“There you are,” a voice said, and he saw her wave from the living room. “Come on in. Sorry about the mess.”

“What mess,” Garrus said, but when he saw the model and the glue on the table, he knew what she meant.

Jane gave an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah, pretty silly, right? The attention to detail helps me relax.”

“That’s not the only thing making you relax,” Garrus huffed. “I can smell him.”

“Hey, keep your nose out of my business, turian bloodhound.”

“All right, all right. But only if you feed me. I left during a dinner row.”

“No problem, I have some dextro beef strips in the cooler. In fact, I have my own dinner on the stove, we’ll just warm the dextro stuff in the oven.”

“I should visit more often,” Garrus smiled.

“Yeah, well. All this radio silence is Rolan’s idea. I almost have to smuggle Decian in here, and he can’t often get away from his uncle.”

“Sucks, Jane. I’m sorry,” Garrus said with what he hoped was an honest expression.

She shrugged. “What are a lowly human to do? Turians aren’t happy about getting one in the family.”

“They’ll learn.”

He followed her into the kitchen and fetched the beef. This was the expensive stuff, and Garrus noted a small label from one of the more high end restaurants in town.

“Dmitri?” he asked.

“Yup. He’s really very nice.”

“He’s really very strong,” Garrus said. “Can’t believe he lifted me off the ground.”

“What? I’ve never heard this story?”

“I’ll tell it over dinner? Does this come with gravy?”

“On the second shelf, along with dextro topping and herbs.”

“I’m never leaving, tiny human,” Garrus quipped and went to raid the cooler again. “ You’ll have to drag me out of here.”

“I’ll pass that bridge when I get to it,” Jane laughed.

Garrus hadn’t heard that in weeks, and realized how much he’d missed this. Dinner alone with Jane, what could go wrong?

 

**2176 CE – November 02 nd – Dmitri’s old Flat – 20:02 PM**

“No, he didn’t say that?!”

“He absolutely did,” Garrus grinned. “Spiky little thief, those are his exact words.”

Jane gave an exasperated laugh.

“Gods, I’ll have a word with him.”

“Nah, we’re good. When I said I knew you, he let me go.”

“Still, that’s no way for him to behave in public.”

“I said not to worry, it’s not-..”

 

“Ahem!”

Both of them went dead quiet, until Jane sprung up from her seat.

“Mom?!”

“Jane!”

Jane and her mother started to laugh and smile before Hannah Shepard hugged her daughter hard. Garrus moved to leave before it became apparent who he was, but Jane signaled him to remain where he was. She also winked at him. This was not good.

“Dmitri gave me the key code, I wanted to surprise me. But imagine my surprise when you already had guests.”

The admiral gave him a polite nod.

“You look familiar, have I seen you before?”

“Uh, I’m afraid you have, admiral Shepard,” Garrus said hesitantly.

“Mom, this is a great friend of mine. He was a member of the ground team that found me,” Jane said.

“Really? In that case I owe you my deepest thanks, young man. What’s your name?”

“Uuuuhh,” Garrus mumbled and stared pleadingly at Jane.

“This is Garrus Vakarian, mom. You’ve met him at his father’s office once.”

Hannah snapped her eyes back to her daughter, and the two of them stared at each other. For a species with no subvocals, there were a lot of non-verbal communication being conveyed between Jane and her mom, and Garrus realized he’d escaped one family fight only to land himself smack dab in the middle of another.

“Jane, this is not the time,” Hannah tried.

“This is the only time,” Jane retorted. She made a point of turning towards Garrus so that her sliced ear became visible to her mother. “He helped save me, and I owe him more than I can say. That’s all there is to it.”

The sight of her daughter’s injury mellowed the admiral somewhat, and she relaxed her stance.

“That’s.. I understand. I’ll leave you two to-..”

“No, of course you’re staying. I have enough food left, just let me warm up some.”

“Uh,” Garrus said again.

“Perhaps another-..” Hanna tried again.

“No, now!”

Garrus was again a silent observer in the gray against gray staring contest, and noticed how similar mother and daughter were. He wondered if his mother saw the same when he and Galenus fought.

To his eternal surprise, the admiral caved first with a long sigh.

“All right, Jane. I concede your point. Let’s have some food.”

“Great. I’ll warm some food, Garrus, can you-..”

“I’ll get some plates and something to drink,” Garrus said and almost jumped up, happy to be doing something instead of sitting there immovable like a target.

“Water would be fine, if you have some,” Hannah said and went to hang up her jacket and hat.

“Are you trying to have me killed?” Garrus whispered to Jane. “There’s no emergency exit here.”

“Just get the water bottle and sit your plates down, Garrus. I’ll make her be civil.”

He deflated his fringe. “ I can’t get away, can I?”

“Cheer up, handsome,” Jane said and gave him a quick peck on the mandible. “We’re making huge strides in human-turian diplomacy here.”

Her attention went back to the oven, and he was glad she didn’t see the blue flush on his neck. ‘Why not,’ he thought. Maybe, some day in the future, that scary woman down the hall would be his mother in law. If he could only get Decian out of the way.

 

* * *

 

“So, Garrus, Citadel security? Is that a family trade?” Hannah said and wiped her mouth with a napkin.

“That’s, uh, more of a coincidence. I..” He looked at Jane, and decided a bit more honesty. “Because Jane and I are friends now, the Fleet didn’t trust me enough to keep me in the army. C-sec was a way to save face for everyone.”

Hannah’s eyes widened with those bombshell news.

“You were reassigned because of Jane?”

“I don’t regret anything,” Garrus said hurriedly. “I’d do it again, no hesitation.”

His honest confession rendered the admiral speechless for a moment, and by Jane’s sly smile, he knew he’d hit the mark. Hannah hemmed and hawed before she found a reply.

“That was.. I guess that’s.. It’s admirable, Garrus Vakarian. To stand by a friend, I mean. I can respect that.”

“Oh.. Well, I.. Thank you, I guess?” Garrus said, trying to check with Jane if he was doing all right. She wasn’t being helpful at all, just grinning and putting more food on his plate. If she kept this up, he wouldn’t fit out the door.

“Any other plans for the future,” Hannah asked.

“I.. not really. I hope I’ll find my calling one of these days, but I’m not really sure.”

“You’re still young, you have time. Perhaps you’ll be on a ship again? Work private sector?”

“Maybe. I like the action, and being part of a team is great. I just wish I had a great cause, you know?”

“Die for the Cause?” Hannah said with a small smile. “How very turian.”

“That’s.. pretty accurate, yes.”

“Humans wouldn’t do the same?”

“We would,” the admiral admitted. “It’s an officer’s duty to make sure that willingness for sacrifice isn’t used carelessly.”

“How do you do that?” Garrus said, and immediately regretted it, but Hannah didn’t appear angry.

“I try not to make the soldiers under my command do anything I wouldn’t have done myself when I was in my prime,” she chuckled.

“You don’t look that old to me,” he said, and by the fridge, Jane snorted.

“I heard that, Jane,” Hannah laughed. “Don’t think I won’t remind you when you get older.”

“Fly in my throat,” Jane said while hiding her grinning face.

“Mhm.”

“It’s true.”

“Liar.”

“That’s true too.”

Garrus couldn’t help himself and chuckled with the two females. They were so like Solana and his mother when they talked like this. It was strange, seeing the famed admiral Shepard be so.. normal? He’d actually expected her to be brusque towards him, but because of his relationship with Jane, she made the effort. Sure, there had been some awkward silences at the beginning of the meal, but all in all, it could’ve been worse.

The doorbell ran again.

“I’ll get that, probably Dmitri here to say hello,” Hannah said.

“Give me a hand with these plates?”

Jane nudged his shoulder, and Garrus got up.

“Don’t know if I can move anymore, you’ve overfed me.”

“Not my fault you’re a glutton.”

“Hah. I remember you doing this on that dinner date too.”

“Garrus, I don’t eat the food for you.”

“No, but you tricked me.”

“Keep telling yourself th-.. Whoa! Vistilla Vakarian?”

Garrus dropped the dirty dishes into the sink with a clank.

“Mom?! What are you doing here?”

It was indeed his mother, looking around the room from Jane to her mother and to him. She looked crestfallen.

“I came to find my son, whom I believed to be starving by now, but clearly, I was wrong.”

“Jane, let these two have a moment,” Hannah said, and the two of them moved into the living room.

Vistilla came up beside Garrus.

“You do know who that is?” she whispered.

“It’s Jane’s mom. And I remember her name and rank, yeah.”

“Your father is going to spontaneously molt if he finds out.”

Garrus couldn't help the snort escaping him.

“Yes he will.”

“Are you still upset?”

After some consideration, Garrus shook his head. “Not really. Me and Jane talked and chilled, so I’m better now.”

“I thought so. Come back home. Visit your friend whenever you like, but you can’t stay here. It’s too..”

“Shameful?”

“Dangerous. The admiral is a controversial figure, and both you and her will come under real fire if it becomes public knowledge that you spent a night here.”

“That’s not our fault, mom..”

Vistilla hummed at her son and patted him on the cowl. “I know, son, but that’s just life.”

“So unfair. I won’t stop being friends with her, no matter what dad says.”

“I never said you had to, and I’ve talked with Galenus. He’s.. more amenable to the idea now. Come back with me so we can discuss this as a family.”

Garrus perked up his fringe. “He has? Great. Let me say goodbye first. Jane?”

“In here.”

“Wait here, mom, I’ll be right back.”

 

* * *

 

Hannah Shepard had very mixed feelings about the hug-a-turian act her daughter was conducting in the other room, but wisely kept her mouth shut. The fact that there were two Vakarians in her daughters apartment was a most unwelcome shock, but Jane had been adamant about keeping Garrus around, and she couldn't really toss out his mother just because their presence gave her the creeps. The snippets of debrief information provided by David had made her, a grown woman, cry like a child. After her months in captivity, Jane wasn’t about to accept any preaching about one of her saviors. Hannah had to respect that. The young turian appeared to be a polite, if nervous guy, and she hadn’t found any other fault in him other than species and sire. If her daughter hadn’t picked up his wary admiration for her, so much the better. The living room was warm, but Hannah shuddered at the thought of her daughter actually dating one of these aliens. Nice as he was, despite his unfortunate father, it was better he found one of his own kind.

The goodbye ceremony dragged out, and Hanna opened her omni-tool and checked her incoming messages. Apparently, there was a large manhunt in the Traverse for the leader of the Blue Suns, instigated by none other than Saren Arterius. It was about time. The Alliance had warned about the growing piracy threat for years now. The Spectre had commandeered several ships from the Hierarchy in pursuit, and it was believed a request for human assistance would be procured if the pirates tried to cross into their space. She grinned mirthlessly. At least he’d learned his lesson the last time, but if the call came in, she’d join in the hunt. Solem Dal’Serah was the boss scum, but all the Suns would pay for what they did to her daughter.

“Admiral Shepard?”

The light gray mate of Galenus Vakarian stood in the door frame and waited for a response. Hannah could see she was wary.

“Vistilla Vakarian, is it? I don’t know your title.”

“We don’t use rank in my line of work. Too revealing. I just wanted to say.. Thank you for treating my son with respect while he was here. I know how you feel about our family, and I don’t want to impose more than we already have.”

Hannah wasn’t sure how to respond. This soft spoken female wasn’t what she’d imagined all these years. Nevertheless, there was a truth to be told here.

“Your son helped save my daughter, and Jane thinks highly of him. You should be proud of him.”

“I am,” Vistilla said and flared her mandibles. “Thank you.”

To Hannah, the sight was unnerving, but she knew it was a friendly gesture. Her own lips jerked up in an uneven smile.

“We won’t stay long, I just need to detach my son from his friend.”

“I’m right here mom,” Garrus said reproachfully.

“So you are. Hi, Jane. Sorry to just drop by, but I was missing a son.”

“Mom..!”

Jane laughed. “That’s okay. I’ve kept him fed and warm.”

Garrus groaned. “Aw, come on, Jane. You too? I’m not a stray pet.”

The two turians went outside, and Jane followed them to the skycar.

Against her will, Hannah chuckled. While she didn’t wholeheartedly approve of Jane’s fondness for a Vakarian, she could tacitly accept him as an accessory to keeping her daughter happy for the time being. As long as neither of them got any ideas and kept Galenus Vakarian far away from her, she’d stay silent on the matter of friendly turians.

And speaking of turians, her omni-tool chimed with a summons to Alliance HQ 07:00 tomorrow. One evening ashore, and she’d landed a new mission. Hannah had an inkling what it pertained to, but put that aside. Jane was still in recovery, and it would take at least two days to restock the Orizaba. That time would be spent on Jane, and hopefully, fewer Vakarians.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another soft chapter, with hints of a long arc.  
> Hopefully I'll manage a chapter in time for next week, but we're nearing Christmas, and I'll have to drive all the way back next week, so I might be late.


	61. Citadel Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard continues her training with Quarn, an old friend makes his reappearance, and Dmitri drives everyone nuts.

**2176 CE – December 23 rd – Rolan Quarn’s Special Boot Camp – 11:12 AM**

“Shepard, is this all you have for me? After two months, I expect more!”

Beads of sweat dripped from her brow while she pushed against his shield, but Shepard knew her powers weren’t up to the task. If she went all in, she might loose what little control she’d mastered. When Rolan realized she was holding back, he disintegrated the shield, making her tumble to the ground, landing squarely on her face.

“I’m not here to play around. You won’t make more progress unless you push those limits. You either do that with me, or you’ll kill every single Alliance instructor they throw at you come January.”

He picked up his water canteen and poured some down his throat. Shepard balled her fists, staring at the floor in defeat. This was never going to work.

“Get up. I didn’t say you could feel sorry for yourself.”

The biotic charges in her hands surged, and the effort it took to keep them at bay made her eyes water. Her level had been stagnant for two weeks, and nothing she tried seem to work. The creeping feeling of hopelessness she carried around was starting to fester.

Rolan came over and knelt beside her. When he saw the expression on her face, he gave her a rub on the shoulder.

“It’s not that bad, Shepard. One more try, and I’ll give you a long purr, how about it?”

She blinked the tears away and chuckled.

“Isn’t this sexual harassment?”

“It’s sexual inducement, subtle difference.”

The offered arm was gratefully accepted, and he pulled her back up.

“I think I know what the problem is,” Rolan said. “You’re able to hold a charge much longer now that you’re not in extreme ketosis anymore, your powers are changing back to how they were previously. It’s unfamiliar, but good.”

“It feels like I’m stronger than I was before.”

“And so you are. You’ve accepted that your powers can kill, and have used them to do just that. Now, we have to adjust that balance so that you only kill when you mean to do it.”

“Haven’t we done that the past two weeks?”

“I have, you’ve been holding out on me. Frankly, Shepard, it’s a bit of an insult. Don’t think I can handle you? Because I could, you know. Real good handling.” He wiggled his mandibles at her.

“I’d rather not have scale itch, please,” she fired back.

“Oh please, I got that cured last month,” Rolan said, and laughed when he saw her face. “Have some faith in me, both on the topic of fighting and sex. I go all in at both, and you need to do that too.”

“About the itch..” Shepard said.

“It was a joke, I don’t care that much for varrens. Speaking of which, did I see you at a diner with a krogan yesterday?”

“Yup. So what?”

“Oh, nothing. The company you keep, Shepard. Now, come at me and don’t hold back, or I’ll tell mother dearest you’re shagging the krogan.”

“Damned turian, you asked for it.”

Rolan answered with a loud purr, and Shepard’s eyes swam again, for different reasons than before.

 

**2176 CE – December 24 th – Dmitri’s Old Flat – 18:25 PM**

With a last moan, Decian rolled off her with his remaining strength, and laid beside her trying to catch his breath.

“This is what humans do on your holidays?” he gasped. “I have to check the calendar more often.”

Shepard placed her hand on his keelbone and chuckled. “If I saw you more often, I might invent a few for you.”

“Aw, please, Jane, don’t remind me. Uncle Venari is after me all damn day, and when I tell him I’m going to see you, he punishes me by sending me on an off station mission the next day. I can’t imagine what he’d do if you and I were seen in public.” He hesitated, uncertain of how to ask his next question. “So, ah, the scuttlebutt on the station is that you’re often seen with some alien around the Citadel. Should I be worried?”

It was said it in a playful manner, but Shepard heard the serious undertone.

“You’re the only turian for me, remember? It’s probably Rolan, or Garrus, or Skogan, or Dmitri and Eriela. I can’t sit here cooped up all afternoon just because your uncle is a jerk.”

Decian sighed.

“I know that, and I wish that things were different. Maybe when I’m higher in the grades I can do what I want, but right now, I’m stuck with.. Sorry. We’re stuck with these circumstances.”

“I know,” she said and rolled closer.

“That’s not all,” Decian mumbled. “ The other guys at the stations were discussing dating outside our species, and a nother recruit asked Garrus if he’d ever consider dating a human. Do you know what he said?”

“No, tell me what the bad turian said.”

“ _Maybe I already have one in mind_ _._ And the only human he’s fraternizing with is you.”

Shepard couldn't help herself and laughed. “Gotta give the guy props for persistence. Imagine when that gets back to his father.”

“It’s not funny, Jane!”

“It’s a little funny, especially when I think about that stupid mingling party your uncle made you attend last week, and you didn’t hear me complain about that.”

Decian winced at the memory. “Thaaaat’s… fair, I guess. I wouldn’t be happy if you went to a party and some other male rubbed up against you.”

She lifted herself up on an elbow.

“Some female was rubbing on you?”

“Ah, well, no.. Maybe..”

“Fine. I’ll grab some hind plates next time I train with Rolan.”

“Jane..”

“You’ve heard that purr, right? Like the rumble of a dreadnought generator?”

“It’s not that powerful,” he protested. “Do you.. uh.. do you think Rolan is attractive?”

“Yes.”

“Oh..” Decian said while staring at the ceiling.

“But he’s not the one I love. I love some idiot turian who let himself get rubbed on by other females whenever he’s out of my sight.”

“Ouch! Okay, I get it. I’ll try to stay away from my uncle’s wiles, and you will _not_ grab that Rolan guy’s _anything_. Do we have a deal?”

“We do.”

“Great. I need another kiss before I leave..”

Shepard laughed and indulged him until the timer on his omni-tool warned of a new shift.

 

**2176 CE – December 24 th – Dmitri’s Old Flat – 21:45 PM**

The clean-up after one of Decian’s visits had to be thorough , and Shepard sprayed her special solution everywhere they’d been. The shower helped, but better safe than sorry. This year she’d been cheap with the Christmas decorations, only a tiny polar bear pulling a gift sled was sat on a shelf. Dmitri had promised a get-together tomorrow, he was getting more strict with traditions now that he was about to become a dad. Eriela’s belly had grown to epic proportions, and with it, Dmitri’s head. He could recite long passages from the books on child rearing he was reading, and Eriela had once fallen asleep during the most asinine theories. She never heard the end of it.

The doorbell rang, and Shepard dropped the spray bottle. It wasn’t Decian, or Dmitri, he always called. If the person didn’t identify himself, she could alert the private security company her mother hired.

“Hi, uh, it’s me, Garrus. Can I come in for a minute?”

“Garrus? Sure, just a sec.”

She buzzed him in, and he pressed inside before the door was completely open.

“Hi, Jane. Uh. Remember that time on Gagarin when Four chipped in and got you some berry bars for the holidays?”

“That’s a blast from the past. Yes, what of it?”

He shuffled from foot to foot in a way she hadn’t seen in years.

“They all.. I mean, all of them except me, that is. I was still so angry with you, I told Castor to shove it. It was a dick move, what with the unification treats and all..”

Shepard smiled and playfully nudged him in the shoulder.

“That was a long time ago, and we’re good friends now, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, well. I saw this in a shop and thought of you.”

His mandibles fluttered uncertainly, and he held out a small gift box. It was clumsily wrapped and the paper was torn in places, like someone with talons had tried their best. Shepard felt a lump in her throat.

“Thank you, Garrus. That’s really thoughtful of you. I’m sorry I have nothing to give in return.” She took the small box from him and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. “Thank you for being you.”

Garrus hummed.

“Merry Christmas, Jane.”

“Do you have time for a beer? I have some dextro snacks in the cupboard.”

“Nah, I can’t really stay. I have a late assignment at the office. I just wanted to drop this off in time.”

Shepard was disappointed, but smiled. “Another time then?”

“Bet on it.”

He waved goodbye, and Shepard watched his back for a long time as he walked down the street.

Back inside, she failed to muster the patience to wait and opened the small box with care. Inside was two miniature models, one of a human female carrying a pistol, and a turian carrying a rifle. Someone had painted blue markings on the turian atop the orange ones already in place, and missed some tiny spots. Shepard already knew where they were supposed to fit, and put some glue on the feet and placed one in each of the side doors of the model shuttle on the table. They looked like they were ready to leap into action. Garrus had a great eye for details. The camera on the omni-tool clicked, and she forwarded the image to the guy who’d appreciate it the most. Perhaps some day they’d fight side by side again, but until then, she had this to remind her.

 

**2177 CE – January 15 th – Physical therapy session – 14:16 PM**

Five days into the Alliance program, Shepard was glad she’d started early with Rolan. They’d all been put in groups of six, each a soldier with various injuries from combat or accidents in the service. Her group was short one guy who’s shuttle had been delayed on Earth. Two of the guys had been shot, and the female soldiers had taken a lot of shrapnel in the leg. The exercises were designed to rebuild muscle tone and flexibility under constant supervision of the attending physicians, but most of the soldiers were desperate to get back out to their crew. Shepard was the exception. Unless Rolan could fix what had been broken, she’d be sweeping floors on some distant colonial outpost in the Traverse.

“Hey, Shepard, new guy coming in today,” corporal Anderson grunted while swinging the kettle bell. “Wanna add to the pool?”

Shepard pondered for a second. “Hmm.. Is explosion taken?”

“Fifty credits?”

“Sure, I’m in.”

“You’re going down,” the female soldier called Li grinned. “Gun shot all the way.”

“Moment of truth, here he comes.” Anderson nodded to the entrance.

Shepard had to do a double take. The man swaggering in like he owned the place was broad like a barn door. Whenever he turned, his upper body threatened to burst out of his tank top, but the face.. that face.. It was Ivar Argyle!

“Damn,” Li hissed. “Fuck the fraternizing rules, that ass is mine.”

“Hell no,” private Roark said. “That’s a guy who likes a hard one.”

The muted argument made Shepard snort, and Argyle caught sight of her.

“Shepard?!”

“Argyle, long time no see.”

“Don’t even try that, come here!”

He was over in two strides and lifted her up in a bear hug.  
“It’s been years. I deserve this.”

Roark and Li glared at Shepard, then decided they were done for the day.

“All right, I surrender. Put me down before they think you’re going to carry me out of here.”

She was gently lowered to the ground, and Argyle examined her face.

“Better now. Mevia was rather worried for you. The hair is coming out nice, almost like you had at Gagarin. That ear, though.. Tsk tsk. Might want to regrow it.”

“I’ll get a new ear when I have the hump of the krogan who took it mounted on my wall,” Shepard said.

“Vengeance? I’m all for it. Don’t think you can run out on me, I’ll go register, and then we’re going out to eat.”

“Fine by me.”

 

A nearby diner with good food was the place of choice, and Shepard watched in mock horror at Argyle scarfing down more than a dozen pancakes under five minutes. He flashed a big blueberry smile, and she used the moment to take a picture and forward to Mevia.

“Hey, was that to my fiancee?”

“Serves you right for making me watch all that,” Shepard laughed. “How’s things on the love front?”

“I have to admit, before you told that daft turian I wanted to marry her, I thought she’d jilted me. Couldn't sleep a wink for weeks, it felt like being in the doldrums. And then you stroll in and set her straight, setting wind in my sails. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“That’s what I’m here for, saving my friends’ love lives and listen to antiquated nautical terms.”

“Check this out.” Argyle handed her a small ring box. “Go on, open it.”

The two rings it contained was made of two metals, gold and deep green, entwining like the roots of a tree. The gold and the deep green complimented each other, making the metal seem alive.

“Wow, Argyle. Pulling out all the stops.”

“Nothing is too good for my girl, even if she can be thick as a brick,” he smiled. “We’ve found a turian priest who’s willing to do the ceremony in secret, when next we’re both at the Citadel. If you’re here then, consider yourself invited.”

“Hey, if I’m here, I’m there.”

“Fantastic. Excuse me, waiter? Five more pancakes, please.”

“I’m getting full just looking at you. Water for me, thank you.”

“These guns don’t build themselves,” Argyle said and flexed an upper arm. On a nearby table, an elderly woman sighed dreamily.

“Easy there, stud, don’t give her a heart attack.”

“I can’t help I’m irresistible. Too bad for them I’m soon to be an old married man.”

“So why are you here? On the Alliance recoup program, I mean?”

“Got caught in the blast when a freighter we were boarding lost the engine.” Argyle pulled up his tank top and showed her the burns on his side. The woman next to them were fiddling with her omni-tool.

“Hey lady, have you no shame? Go home to your husband, don’t take pics of my friend,” Shepard snapped.

“Relax, Shepard. No harm done,” Argyle said.

“It’s still not right. Ogling is one thing, but sneaking pics when you’re not looking? Gods..”

“Still protective of your old team? Aw, that’s so sweet.”

The waiter came with the fresh batch of pancakes, and Shepard snatched one from Argyle’s plate.

“Hey!”

She stuffed it in her mouth and spoke while chewing:

“That’s for calling me sweet.”

“Ugh. I forgot all about your more unpleasant side, but it’s coming back.”

“Just remember, every nookie you get from Mevia since my return is my doing. You can sacrifice one pancake for that.”

Argyle grinned and held out the whole plate. She pard returned the grin and held up her hands.

“One in tribute is enough. I’m a benevolent ruler.”

“Thank you, oh great one.”

“That’s the spirit.”

 

**2177 CE – February 01 st – The Infiltrator – 23:49 PM**

The captain’s cabin was dimmed down and the setting on the audio system was almost muted when Saren made the call. That last torpedo and following explosion had struck the Infiltrator midship, and the she was now blackened and bent where she normally was sleek and shiny.

The pirates had been better armed and better prepared than he expected, and the first strike had diverted the bulk of the Hierarchy forces to engage in pursuit. Saren had remained behind to examine their bases when he and two escort cruisers were ambushed. Only the timely arrival of the Orizaba had prevented that cursed Solem dal’Serah from getting his hands on the vaunted Spectre eye. The admiral had ran one of the attackers through with her reinforced hull and placed her dreadnought between the Blue Sun’s strikers and the wounded Infiltrator, delivering lethal broadside s to the Blue Suns. In less than twenty minutes, their forces were decimated. Whatever one might say of her prejudices, she was a deadly force to be reckoned with in space battles. There was little but flotsam left of the Suns, but Solem had managed to escape again. Barely, and badly thrashed, but his ship had still disappeared in the debris field.

Saren was extremely unhappy with the outcome of the fight, most of all because he should have foreseen the ambush. A Spectre ship wasn’t built to be on the front lines taking massive damage, it was built for stealth or hit and run. Until they had something better, that had to be their modus operandi. Anyone who’d done Spectre training would know that, and Saren had miscalculated how much information his former classmate had supplied for Solem. That would end soon. The batarian would die painfully, both for the attack and for leaving him in debt with admiral Shepard.

The admiral herself had been unusually graceful about the whole thing, something Saren found deeply suspicious. He doubted Shepard the younger had said anything, but it wasn’t until he received intel from the Citadel of the admiral’s fury over her daughter’s treatment by the Blue Suns that he could relax. Anger and revenge he could understand, as well as the need to protect one’s child.

 

The connection established, and the mandible - flaring face Rolan appeared on the screen.

“Hello, old chum. Heard Solem gave you a bit of trouble?”

“Rolan. Glad to see you’re keeping informed.”

“Nobody could’ve missed this debacle. They heard that one back on Palaven. Even the Primarchs were stunned.”

“That’s not what I called you to-..”

“I mean, Spectre Arterius, scourge of pirates and slavers, saved by his arch enemy.”

“I don’t have an arch enemy, you dimwit,” Saren spat with as much force as his ringing ear canals could manage. “She couldn’t even kill me all those years ago.”

That didn’t stop Rolan from laughing. “And neither you her. Made from sturdy stuff, those Shepard females.”

“And now that we’ve returned to the topic matter at hand,” Saren said, “how’s the younger one?”

“She’s.. a little frightening. Immense focus, increased pain threshold, and a will capable of battering through most obstacles.”

“Hereditary,” Saren sighed. “Progress?”

“A month or two, and she’ll be ready for light assignment, I think. We’ve managed to contain those trances, but whether or not it will work under extreme duress, well.. We’ll have to test that.”

“Do it,” Saren said. “I know I said mid February and no longer, but circumstances have changed. We need the humans in this hunt, and that means the admiral. If she’s distracted by other matters-..”

“Like the meltdown of her daughter,” Rolan said.

“Then we’ll lose a valuable asset.”

“Is that all?” Rolan wheedled. “Not that you owe a large debt of honor, and the spirits won’t forget?”

“Return to your charge, Quarn.”

“Or have you gone soft on your older days? Learned the value of family and bonds?”

Saren glared at the screen. “What are you implying?”

“Implying? Me? Nothing. Nothing at all.”

A row of sharp needle teeth flashed on the holo display before Rolan disconnected.

Saren cursed the former assassin. He couldn't know. Nobody knew. Except one, and she was currently on Thessia. In any case, that was a problem for another day. Solem was one thing, but it was time to smoke Despan Vyrnnus out of the hole he’d been hiding in for years.

 

**2177 CE – February 28 th – Citadel Hospital – 18:15 PM**

The day was the due day for Eriela, and originally she and Dmitri had wanted everyone to wait at home until the baby was born, but Shepard had received a curious message from the expecting mother, marked _haste_.

“Get your ass over here now!”

She’d been in the middle of teaching Skogan and one of his girlfriends skyllian five, and the poor krogan had been stuffed in the skycar along with her. Maribel had insisted, saying if there was trouble, Skogan should support his friends, and Shepard hadn’t the heart to refuse either of them.

Krogan scratched his hump. “Do we even know that the emergency is? Aren’t there doctors at the hospital?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean we don’t answer when our friends call.”

“All right, all right.”

The delivery room was crowded with perturbed nurses, all standing outside with an offended look.

“Are you the friend,” the turian head nurse asked. “Would you please remove him?”

“Him?” Shepard said? “Who?”

“The father to be. The man’s a danger to society.”

A high pitched voice yelled to the nursing staff. “Is she here? Get her in here!”

“Go, go,” the turian nurse said and pushed Shepard inside.

“Jane? You’re _late!”_ Eriela barked as soon as she entered.

“You sent message? Whyyy?” Dmitri was over by the bed, clutching the bedpost.

“Get my husband out of here before I kill him,” Eriela hissed through gritted teeth. “He think he knows how to push out a baby better than the staff.”

“Babe, I have read books,” Dmitri insisted. “Contractions are still far apart, and singing will help with child birth process.”

“If I have to listen to your theories for a second longer, I’ll be a widow. Get out!”

“Dmitri, come,” Shepard said and took his hand. “We’ll come back when the baby is on the way out.”

“Noo! I want to stay.”

“Dmitri, buddy, if we don’t get out, the nursing staff will burn you at the stake in the courtyard. Come!”

“Sweetheart?” he pleaded with his wife, but Eriela pointed at the door.

“Out!”

“But I made the baby,” he insisted.

Eriela started to shimmer in a biotic haze. Shepard recognized the danger signs and pushed Dmitri through the door frame.

“We’ll be back in no time,” she soothed her anguished friend.

“But I wanted to help,” Dmitri said. “It is wife and child.”

Shepard had never seen her friend so worked up. He shifted between worried, happy, fear and giddiness with alarming frequency. Still, the birthing mother came first.

“Hey, we’ll be back when your daughter enters this word, right now your wife needs to breathe without you telling her how to do it.”

“But the books..”

“Are no substitute for experience,” Shepard finished. “You got the best people in the galaxy here, take a seat and relax.”

“Okay. Okay. Okay.”

Dmitri dropped down on the bench, making it groan under the strain.

“By end of day, I will be a father.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” Skogan had come back from the kiosk, carrying some snack bars and a beer.

“Shepard told me to get you this.”

“I do not want drink,” Dmitri said and glanced at the delivery room door.

“Yes you do,” Shepard said and took the beer from Skogan and pushed it in Dmitri’s hand. “If Eriela catches you sneaking in there again, there’ll be blood to pay. I didn’t say you had to get drunk, but take a beer, take a load off, and tell me why you’re acting like a nutcase.”

“I am 19 years old, and I will be a dad soon,” Dmitri said.

“That’s what happens when you stick that thing you know where and don’t take it out before you know what,” Shepard grinned.

“That is not funny, Jane.”

“Wrong! Hahaha!”

“Ahaha.. You are all against me.”

“Imagine, soon we’ll be three against one. Eriela, your daughter and me.”

“Girls are supposed to be nice.”

“You must’ve read the label wrong,” Shepard said. “Skogan, could you get a beer for me? Get one for yourself too, I’m paying.”

“Sure thing.” The krogan lumbered away, and the pair of them were left alone.

“Is it supposed to be this scary?” Dmitri said with his head in his hands.

“I think so. Reminds you of doing a good job raising the little squirt.”

“You know, if day comes when you have child, I will pay back every comment.”

“That’s the idea,” Shepard said and put one arm over his shoulder. “Take a sip. We might be in for a long wait.”

 

**2177 CE – February 28 th – Citadel Hospital – 22:46 PM**

The turian head nurse had finally allowed Dmitri back in 35 minutes ago. Skogan was sending regular updates to his girlfriends, both of them good friends with Eriela. For her part, Shepard had almost fallen asleep on Skogan’s shoulder when he burst out the door with the biggest grin she’d ever seen.

“IT’S A GIRL!”

“Isn’t it always-.. Omph.” Skogan was cut off by an elbow.

“Congratulations, Dmitri! Are both mom and baby healthy?”

“Yes, yes! Very healthy. Strong lungs, you can hear, yes? Inessa cries for her papa. Later!”

In the next moment, he was gone.

“Inessa, huh? Better tell your girlfriends, then we can both go home.”

“Shouldn’t you, like, say something to Eriela?” Skogan said.

“With Dmitri like that? Nope, I’ve done my duty. Someone else can take over from here, and it’s not like we’ll even see the baby with Dmitri running around like a crazy person. I’ll come back tomorrow with a teddy bear or something. Or a tiny stuffed krogan.”

“I’ve seen one of those down the market,” Skogan replied. “I’ll show you on the map.”

“Great, thanks.”

Shepard and Skogan left just in time before the nurse came back looking for her. If the human father-to-be had been a meddling pain in the ass, it was nothing to how the actual dad behaved. The turian turned back with a dejected look and dragged her feet inside. Perhaps she should’ve accepted the transfer to Palaven after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many hints, and some new threads to pull at. Add to that, the most as Christmasy as this fic is going to get. :) 
> 
> I wish you all a very merry Christmas, and if I get my full sight back in my right eye, I might get out another chapter before New Year :D
> 
> (And I'm sorry if there are more punctuation errors and split words than normal, but I can only see half the screen clearly. I have tried to clean the text as best I could :D )


	62. Fields of Elysium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard is ready for the next step, while Garrus and Decian is dealing with issues of their own.

**2177 CE – March 15 th – Rolan Quarn’s Special Boot Camp – 09:12 PM**

“That’s it! Come on! A little more.”

Shepard’s barrier shook under the strain of the reave. The shield held back the impact of the biotic assault, but not the pain. This was further on the stress scale than anything they’d tried before, and Shepard’s shirt was already soaked with sweat, some from the physical strain, some cold sweat from nervousness. After mutual agreement with Rolan, she still didn’t use an amp in case of a setback, and the difference in their power level was almost tangible.

In her mind, Shepard feared the return of the whispers as she pushed Rolan’s reave from her. The voice of her first _‘mentor,’_ the endless taunts and slurs had accompanied her for so long, but he remained silent, as he had for the past month. Instead, she _saw_ through the haze of pain and could focus on the person behind the attack. Rolan had proven to be a formidable trainer, both of the body and the mind, and he’d pressed her past every limit and threshold she’ d thought insurmountable, with this their end goal. Right now was the moment of truth, and Shepard redoubled her effort to keep the barrier up. In response, Rolan intensified his reave, and the effects on her body as undeniable. Her muscles trembled and sweat was now dripping from her jawline, but her mind remained firmly her own.

“That’s it, Shepard. Almost there..”

At his encouragement, Shepard tried even harder, and to her astonishment, the pain subsided and were replaced by a dull pressure. The reave was still in effect, but during her concentration, the ache went away. Sore muscle tissue and strained synapses were given a brief relief, and she used the moment to fire a charge at Rolan. The biotic projectile struck him in the arm and sent him spinning, and after a desperate attempt to regain his balance, Rolan tripped over his own feet and fell over.

“Whoa, are you okay?” Shepard said and knelt down.

“Never better. That was exemplary.” He got up a little unsteadily. “I think with that, we’ve reached the end of the line.”

“Meaning?” she said, a little alarmed.

“That I have fulfilled my part of the deal. I think you’re ready to return to service, and just in the nick of time too, eh?”

“You know about that?”

“I know everything. Heard they gave you some light mission to start with, guard patrol on Elysium?”

“You know, one day, I’ll find out where you get your intel from. That’s still classified.”

“For someone with my charm, there’s no lock that cannot be opened.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow. “That’s.. creepy. At least you don’t know-..”

“..and you’re getting promoted to second lieutenant. Butter bar, I think your fellow marines call it?”

She sighed. “I really should report that the Alliance confidential files are leaking like a sieve , but I have this feeling it mostly happens when you’re around. What did you say you did before coming here?” she asked innocently.

“I was a rolling stone,” Rolan grinned.

“Knock it off, really, what did you do?”

“Stripper at Omega.”

“Actually, that I can believe,” she said and checked out his waist. “You got the body type for it.”

“Hey now, it was a jest.”

“So, if I transfer 100 credits, will you take your undersuit off? Flap your nether-plates a bit? ”

Rolan laughed. “For so little? Never.”

“Greed is a deadly sin, turian.”

“So much the better I don’t believe in any human claptrap, then.”

Shepard smiled, then became serious.

“Does this mean you’re leaving?”

“It does indeed. Going to miss me?”

“A little bit, yeah,” she admitted.

“I understand. You’re being deprived of all of this,” he said and motioned downward from his keel bone. “Can’t rightly blame you.”

“Gods.. I regret saying that now.”

“Fret not, Shepard. While I will be leaving soon, at least your little boyfriend will sleep easier at night.”

“Lucky him.”

“If you’re not leaving before me, that is.”

That made Shepard freeze.

“What have you heard?”

“Oh, nothing much. Only that _someone_ might be dispatched within a week or two.”

“So soon..”

“Someone’s uncle is convinced getting out there and learning by doing will do wonders for your career. Not to mention, you’re a junior officer now, you need to learn how to run a squad in the field.”

“Right. Damn. I had blocked out that the N7 program doubles as officer candidate school.”

“Add to that your age. You’re young Shepard, so don’t fuck this up. It’s early for a stain on your record.”

She tossed a towel at him. “Thanks!”

Rolan grabbed it with a smile, then handed it back with a frown.

“A caution, from a friend. Only a few know about your liaison with that young C-sec officer, and it should remain that way. It will not benefit either of your careers at this moment to reveal that to the world. Having turian acquaintances is one thing, a turian lover is another matter altogether.”

“Sound advice,” Shepard sighed. “Looks like we’ll be hiding for quite some time.”

“Cheer up, if you die heroically somewhere out there, I’m sure all will be forgiven.”

“Hardy-fucking-har.”

“Ease up, Shepard. Considering where you were a few months ago, things are looking up for you.”

“I hope so,” she said and followed him out of the gym for the last time.

 

**2177 CE – March 20 th – Dmitri and Eriela’s Home – 10:00 AM**

“Aw, she’s adorable,” Shepard said and gently tickled the little asari in her swinging crib. “Can you say _‘Jane?’_ ”

“She is little baby, Jane, and first word must be papa or mama,” Dmitri said reproachfully.

He was consigned to the corner of the living room couch by his wife, whom wanted to flaunt her maternal pride by showing her daughter to their visitor. Dmitri’s attempt to hog the baby had been met with a thunderous expression.

“Don’t listen to the silly man,” Shepard cooed. “Auntie Jane will teach you many new interesting words when you’re older.”

“Jane, no!”

“So many swear words,” Shepard continued in her soothing tone, “and then I’ll teach you how to shoot a man in the eye at 100 paces, how’s that? Wheeeee...”

“Janeee! That is cruel, she will get nightmares.”

Eriela rolled her eyes.

“Thanks, Jane. I’ll never get him to take a nap now.”

“Don’t you mean her?” Shepard said and sat back in the sofa, slowly rocking the crib while baby Inessa burbled happily.

“I wish,” Eriela said with her hand placed firmly on her husband’s thigh. “So you’re shipping out next week?”

“Yup. First mission ready, we’re to be part of the replacement for the platoon rotating back to earth.”

“We?” Dmitri said.

“A guy I knew from Gagarin is coming along, Ivar Argyle.”

“I have heard of this guy, yes? Also dates a bird?”

“Dmitri, don’t be patronizing,” Eriela said.

“I am just saying, sweetheart, there must have been something in water at station in Jane’s last year. Everyone suddenly likes turians.”

“Yes we dooo, yes we dooo,” Shepard cooed to the little girl. “And won’t daddy be happy when you bring home a big strapping turian as a boyfriend? Yes he will.”

There was a pained squeak from Dmitri as his wife pinched his leg to get him to sit down.

“Stop it, Inessa is perfectly safe where she is. And she’s quiet and happy now, as she will be no matter who she brings home. Right, husband? ”

“But, a turian son-in-law? Oh no.. So… spiky.. ”

“Or maybe..” Shepard lifted the big teddy krogan, wiggled it and flashed a wide smile.

Dmitri groaned and hid his face in his hands, while Eriela hid a knowing smile with hers. Some things were better left unsaid, at least in front of husbands.

 

**2177 CE – March 27 th – Docking Bay – 09:00 AM**

Her duffle bag was packed and ready, her uniform was freshly pressed and the new golden bar insignia was sewn on her shoulder, but Shepard didn’t feel up to the task at all. They wouldn’t be announcing for troops to begin embarking yet, and so she stood here, waiting and watching for the inevitable. The transport ship looked like a big monstrosity, willing to swallow every soldier whom stood ready to march inside. She knew it was mere nerves, but the hairs in her neck stood out at the thought of joining the fray once more.

“There you are,” Chellick said, jogging up beside her. “Thought I’d let you go without saying goodbye?”

“Hey you,” Shepard smiled and gave him a hug. “How did you get away?”

“I said I was saying goodbye to a friend, and uncle let me go, just like that. He even smiled.”

“Ominous,” Shepard huffed.

“Hey, where’s my hug?” a voice said behind Chellick , and Garrus peeked over his shoulder. “This is the hug-a-human line, right?”

“Garrus! Yes it is,” she said and Chellick reluctantly stepped aside.

“I couldn't shake him,” he muttered.

“As if I don’t know the way to the docks,” Garrus chuffed. “Don’t get lost again, Jane. I probably can’t ride to the rescue this time.”

“Ah, well, I’ll just have to come rescue you, then.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Another Alliance solder arrived, and Garrus hummed happily at the sight. “Argyle! You’re going with Jane? Keep an eye on her for me, okay?”

Argyle straightened up and saluted. “Anything for the new butter bar, sir.”

“All right, that’s enough snark from the corporal,” Shepard laughed. “When we’re among friends it’s just Shepard.”

The three of them joked and exchanged barbs until a third turian came sauntering up to them. Garrus, and Chellick in particular, shuffled uneasily.

“There she is, my little favorite,” Rolan announced and took her hand without preamble and pulled her close. When Shepard’s ear was on his chest, he began to purr, loudly and deeply.

“Good luck out there,” he said between purrs.

Shepard glanced over at the two younger turians. Chellick had a nervous tick in the corner of his eye and was fidgeting with his talons while Garrus was trying to stifle a laugh.

“Thanks, Rolan. You can let go of me now,” she grinned.

“Are you sure? Might never have this chance again,” Rolan said with a mischievous wink.

“She said you could let go,” Chellick snapped and yanked Shepard away from Rolan.

“Whoa, whoa, my arm,” Shepard protested.

“Sorry, Jane, but he was being deliberately obtuse. Creeper,” he said, flicking his mandibles to Rolan.

“Hey, kid, relax. It’s hard to realize one’s limitations,” Rolan said and puffed his fringe. “Some day, you might get a purr like mine.”

Chellick would almost certainly have challenged Rolan to a fight if Shepard hadn’t reached around and held his waist.

“Decian, he’s just goading you. Let it go.”

“He.. he.. Fine!” he said with a last glare at the older turian. “At least you’ll be gone soon.”

“The females on this station will be crying and lamenting for weeks,” Rolan said and gave a small sarcastic bow.

“Hah!” Chellick said.

Garrus said nothing, as he was still trying to chuff silently.

‘ _Troop carrier 357 ready for embarkation,’_ the loudspeaker announced.

“That’s us, Shepard,” Argyle said. “Say goodbye to your harem and let’s go.”

“Funny, Argyle. Rolan, its’ been a pain and a pleasure. Garrus, stay out of trouble, and don’t forget to message me. Decian,” she said and gave him a quick peck on the mandible. “be good.”

He smiled and hummed at her. “I’m always good.”

“Bye guys,” Argyle said. They both waved before heading down to the decontamination sluice.

 

Rolan gave Garrus and Chellick one last mandible flutter before he swung around and strutted away.

Chellick looked so disheartened that Garrus almost felt sorry for him.

“Hey, at least she’s got her omni-tool now. Elysium is their largest colony, plenty of signal transmitters.”

“I suppose.” Chellick didn’t turn around until Jane was on board. “She’s on board. UncleVenari is waiting.”

“I’m heading back to the strike team,” Garrus said. “We have a big simulation today.”

“And you just skipped out on that?”

“No, I said a good friend from my training squad was leaving for duty today, so I got a couple of hours leave.”

“Right, Argyle..”

“Him too,” Garrus grinned. “Catch you later, Chellick.”

“Sure..”

The transport shuttle was leaving the docking bay, and Chellick knew it was time to pay for this indulgence. He had to go see his uncle.

 

* * *

 

“You’ve seen her off then?” Venari looked up from the pile of datapads on his desk. “Good. I hope you’ll concentrate on your future from now on. Spirits know you have a lot to live up to.”

“I know, uncle, but..”

“Your father was an honorable member of C-sec, and he and my sister has high hopes for you to follow in his footsteps.”

“I know.”

“Service before self, Decian. That includes finding a _suitable_ mate.”

The sentence hung in the air between them, and Chellick knew there was a storm incoming.

“I have a mate,” he said, trying to make it clear the subject was not up for debate.

“You have a bed mate, for now,” Pallin said. “Some young turians like living on the edge a few years before coming into adulthood. I understand that, but you can’t pledge yourself to an enemy of the turian people.”

Chellick crossed his arms. “Not this again. Jane is not an enemy of our people.”

“The truth shall emerge one day.” Pallin’s omni-tool bleeped. He thrummed after reading the message. “Look at this. Another high tier turian losing his wits to a female of another species. General Oraka is down at Chora’s Den again, very inebriated. Go deal with that, and learn something about the dangers of cross-species liaising.”

Chellick knew better than to protest. “Yes, sir.” He felt the eyes of his uncle burning his cowl on the way out. This was going to be a problem.

 

**2177 CE – June 16 th – C-Sec Armory – 23:56 PM**

“I still can’t believe a goddamn rookie is better armed than his superiors,” officer Harkin complained after having gaped at Garrus’ rifle.

“Nothing’s stopping you from using your private weapons on the job,” quartermaster Trifer said and handed Harkin a standard issue C-Sec rifle.

“Oh sure, nothing but a few hundred thousands credits,” he replied sourly. “Good thing daddy’s got money.”

“Daddy didn’t get me this,” Garrus said without making eye contact. “A female gave it to me. I’m sort of a kept turian.”

The quartermaster laughed, but Harkin merely grumbled.

“Great.. women..No taste at all..”

“That’s enough griping, Harkin.”

Senior officer Tremerus had arrived, and he placed his shotgun on the counter. “Trigger too sensitive after your last adjustment. Give me the Rosenkov Karpo instead.”

“Rosenkov again,” Harkin muttered. “Snobs.”

“Quality is expensive,” Tremerus said. “If you didn’t gamble all your credits away every month, perhaps you could afford one as well.”

Harkin refrained from making a reply, but he cast a last hateful glance on Tremerus before he attached his rifle to his back and went outside to the waiting skycar.

“Keep away from that one,” Tremerus warned Garrus. “He’s a diversity hire to keep the humans happy.”

“Sir, I understand, sir,” Garrus said. “Why aren’t we hiring other humans? Ones more qualified?”

“If Harkin is the best they can give us, I’d rather not have another,” Tremerus said while checking his pistol.

Garrus flicked a mandible, but held his tongue on the matter of humans.

“Sir, who are we hitting tonight?”

“Eclipse smuggler band. More red sand, I think. There’s been a drop in smuggling weapons or illegal mods. We’ve not seen as many Blue Suns trying to gain entry to the Citadel black market recently either. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were hoarding the stuff. ”

“Might it have something to do with Saren Arterius hounding their leader all across the galaxy?”

“In all likelihood, yes.”

“With the help of the humans,” Garrus said carefully.

“I bet your father is happy about that,” Tremerus said in a hushed voice. “Everybody on the upper floors turns off the newsreel when that obnoxious newcomer Al-Jilani is on screen. She talks of little else.”

“Father can be a little set in his ways,” Garrus said with newfound diplomacy. “He’ll get around.”

“Maybe. Time to go. I’m on point, Harkin on support. You get high and take out their snipers, just like we trained. Move out!”

“Yes, sir.”

 

**2177 CE – July 12 th – Flux – 21:13 PM**

“To the best damn sniper on the Citadel,” Tremerus said and hoisted his glass up. “For once, we managed to best those Aroch ward bastards, and the cup is returned to Zakera C-sec station!”

A roar of approving voices joined in the congratulations, and Garrus received so many cowl slaps he lost count.

“Well done, Vakarian,” Chellick said with a sarcastic smile. “Perhaps now that the annual shooting competition is over, we can get back to catching criminals.”

“It’s our job to shoot them too,” Garrus said and ordered another drink. “Perhaps if you ventured outside your office you’d know that.”

“I’ve been trying to track the smugglers route from the outer regions,” Chellick said, annoyed at the snide remark.

“And I’ve been putting them in jail, or out of their misery,” Garrus replied.

Before they could continue the argument, a pair of officers arrived and sat down next to Garrus.

“Hey Vakarian, we heard a rumor,” one of them said. “That you’d be willing to date a human? Well’ here’s your chance.”

The second turian, called Vulso, pointed at a young female human at the other end of the bar.

“She’s a nurse at the clinic,” Vulso whispered. “Rumors say she’s willing to play doctor with turians as well as humans.”

Chellick perked his fringe and grinned at Garrus. “Well? Time to put your credits where your mandibles are. Go get her.”

Garrus flicked his eyes between the three turians. This was a challenge, one he’d rather not participate in. Yeah, he’d consider dating a human, but that was confined to one particular human. Since he couldn’t have her, he had planned to flirt with his senior firing instructor. She had amazing red plates, and would probably resent being his second resort after the human nurse. He craned his head to look at the nurse. She had red hair, true, but the look in her eyes when she saw his gaze worried Garrus. Like he was a piece of plates she wanted to devour.

“Uh, now? I’m not really in the mood.”

“For humans or females,” Vulso’s friend Opis chimed in.

“Ehrm, humans,” Garrus said. “I was going to talk to Cinna, see if she’s interested.”

“Too late,” Chellick said with glee. “Here she comes.”

The three turians vanished, and behind him a strange accent offered to buy him a drink. Garrus turned to face her with trepidation.

“Uh, hello?”

“Hello handsome. Want that drink?”

“I, ah, I already have one. Heat Sink.”

“Oh, I have the levo Heat Sink. Must be fate, then. I’m Chloe Michel, and from your name tag I see you’re Garrus Vakarian. It looked like you wanted company.”

Garrus chuckled warily, trying to find an exit strategy. In the meantime, his hesitation had been taken as confirmation.

“A C-sec officer, I see. I love a man in uniform.”

The smell of her breath told him this was not her fist Heat Sink. Probably not the second or third either.

“Uh, we have a human officer, I could go get him,” he volunteered.

Before he could get away, she’d placed a hand on his leg.

“No, no need. You’re all I want.”

She leaned in closer, and Garrus had no more space to back up.

There was a short pling from the crowd, and Garrus jerked his head around in time to see Chellick taking a holo of him with nurse Michel. There was no doubt as to who would be receiving that holo. Damn him! Chellick’s wide grin and raised glass told him he’d guessed right. What if Jane thought he tried to bed every human on the Citadel? They weren’t together, sure, but she really shouldn’t think that. He wasn’t Aius. Not that Jane had ever minded him having girlfriends, but this was different. Garrus felt no compunction about trying to get with Cinna, she was funny and beautiful, and older and commanding, he liked that. Chloe Michel was.. too human. She reminded him of what wasn’t. Add to that, it didn’t look like she could throw him around in the sparring ring and pin him to the ground. He liked that too in a female. A little old-school turian foreplay. Garrus imagined all those times he’d sparred with Jane and how they _should_ have ended, in his mind.

“Hello? Are you there?”

Chloe waved her hand in front of him, dragging him back to the present.

“Uh, yeah. I forgot, I have to go home and, uh, polish my rifle. Bye!”

With that, the lamest excuse in the world, he left the bar to the laughter of Vulso and Opis, and the dissatisfied glare of Chellick. Screw that guy, trying to lure him with another human. He could talk to Cinna tomorrow, but right now, he had to do damage control with Jane and that holo from her fibbing boyfriend. Garrus started typing, and what began as two lines, ended as three whole paragraphs. There was no point in not bragging a little about the shooting contest he’d won when he was sending a message anyway.

 

**2177 CE – August 05 th – Venari Pallin’s office – 10:00 PM**

“Decian, you’re being foolish. Anthea is a perfect specimen of the turian species. Beautiful, accomplished, high tier parents, I don’t see why you can’t take her out and show her the Citadel while she’s here.”

“Because I know what you’re doing, uncle, and I won’t have it. I already have a mate.”

“Even after last week?”

“I don’t see how that’s a problem,” Chellick insisted.

“The hunt for Solem Dal’ serah ended in a bloody showdown on Korlus, with admiral Shepard and Saren joining forces for the final assault. The dratted admiral will be even more famous than she is now. Do you really think you can have a relationship with her daughter without attracting the attention of the press?”

“It worked so far,” Chellick said. “And isn’t this a good thing? Saren and the admiral, working together for a greater good?”

“Spirits, boy, how can you be this naive. There are conservative forces in the Hierarchy that say Saren has overreached himself this time. Turians are the guardians of Citadel space, not those squishy humans. To accept their help is as good as admitting we can’t take care of our sacred duty.”

“Saren is a Spectre, he doesn’t answer to the primarchs,” Decian snapped.

“All actions have consequences,” Pallin sighed. “This will result in calamity, trust me.”

Their argument were interrupted by an insistent knocking on the door. Pallin gave his nephew one last glare before accepting the visitor.

It turned out to be Garrus Vakarian, bursting in with a wild expression on his face.

“Chellick, have you heard from her?!”

“Officer Vakarian, what is the meaning of this? You can’t barge in here and-..”

“Jane! Have you heard from Jane?!”

Chellick frowned.

“No, but it’s nighttime on there now, why are you-..” Chellick began, but Garrus interrupted him again.

“The newsreel are reporting a massive attack on Elysium, numerous batarian war bands under different colors are attacking the colony!”

Chellick dropped the mug in his hand. “What!? Isn’t the Alliance protecting their colonies?”

“The Alliance is stretched thin with all the resources they’ve lent Saren’s crusade,” Pallin said. “This will not be good for either side, no matter what happens.”

“I request the day off, sir,” Garrus said and saluted Pallin.

“Granted,” Pallin said. “Not you, Decian, we aren’t finished here.”

Chellick looked at Garrus with a pained expression. “If you hear anything..”

“I’ll send a message. Dmitri is my first stop,” Garrus said and was gone the next moment.

Pallin observed his nephew as he sunk down on the chair and tried to suppress his anguished subvocals. The attack might be a tragedy for the humans, but if the spirits heard his prayers, it would end the relationship between Decian and Shepard, one way or another.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, what's this? Last chapter of the year, and a cliffhanger? Mwaahahhahaa! Santa's already been here, so I don't have to worry about coal for a good long while :D
> 
> P.S. If you're a bit of a ME-nerd like me, you'll notice that the Blitz canonically took place in 2176, not 2177. I've had to alter the time line a little, and I might flip some other lines around a bit, but make no mistake, we are entering interesting times. See you next year! ;)
> 
> P.P.S.. Turian chocolate, my ass...


	63. The blitz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard leads a squad in a real fight for the first time, and all eyes are on Elysium.

**2177 CE – August 05 th – Citadel Silver Strip – Crassus Tower 10:30 AM**

The skycar had taken him almost all of the way, but Garrus had to run the remaining 200 meters to the apartment complex. This was perhaps the most expensive place to live on the Citadel, and the security measures were far above standard. Despite his uniform, he had to wait in the hall with armed guards while they called for 'mister Basanov.’ If Garrus hadn’t been in such a rush, he’d more readily accept these checkpoints, but right now, he glared daggers at the receptionist, something that didn’t endear her willingness to help him. After 10 minutes of intentional delays, she finally had to admit him.

“Officer Vakarian, was it? Mister Basanov will see you now.”

“About time,” he barked and entered the elevator.

The subtle drone of the elevator and the occasional twang of metal were usually calming, but now they reminded him of distant shuttle engines and snapping metal. Why did she always have to land herself in every hotspot in the galaxy? Silly human.

When the elevator dinged and the door opened, Dmitri was already there.

“What have you heard?” he said and waved Garrus to follow.

“Nothing more than what is said on the news reels. I hoped you’d know more.”

“Nothing,” Dmitri said in a hard voice. “There is no information to be had.”

Garrus froze. “What?”

Dmitri halted and spun around. “There is no information. Elysium was not fully guarded, and now is under attack. The nearest Alliance ships is maybe five hours away.”

“That’s more than I knew five minutes ago,” Garrus said.

“And so what?” Dmitri hissed. “How will you knowing that help Jane?”

“Dmitri, stop.” Eriela appeared in the door with a baby in her arms. “The boy is worried, and rightly so. Why do you yell at _him?_ ”

Dmitri looked like he was about to shout at his wife too, but he gained some self control and relaxed his shoulders.

“Right.. Fuck.. Sorry, Garrus.”

“It’s all right,” Garrus said. “I’d be yelling too, if I was you.”

“Come inside, both of you,” Eriela said. “There is more news coming in.”

“Are you sure that’s okay?” Garrus said. “I don’t want to disturb more than I have to.”

Eriela smiled. “I bet you’d be back here in an hour or two anyway to ask for updates.”

He twitched his mandibles.

“Uhm.. Yeah, probably.”

“Come on then,” Dmitri said. “We must all wait, it seems.”

 

**2177 CE – August 05 th – Elysium – Two hours after the initial attack**

“Shepard, status?”

“Sir, we’ve lost contact with the Sharstrom. We think she’s down. Only two anti-aircraft cannons still operational on the east side.”

There was a large explosion resonating over the compound.

“Correction, one. They’re taking them out one by one, sir.”

“Dammit. We can’t turn the west turrets down that slope, and only a few on the north and south can reach. They’ve shot down the ones nearest your position.”

“I know sir. They’re taking the downside of an uphill climb to the advantage of only needing to disable one wall of our canons.”

“Can you hold?”

“Not for long, sir. Their missiles will soon break through the wall. Sir, if I may?”

“Spit it out.”

“The east gate was originally built as a large containment sluice, with security walls. If we let their recon teams through to the city..”

“Shepard, there are civilians in the city still.”

“Sir, I know, but the Suns are slavers. They will aim to capture, not kill, and we’re not letting everyone through, just their recons. When the bulk of their forces try to march through the sluice, we’ll have it rigged to blow. Corporal Argyle is a trained combat engineer, and we have the explosives.”

There was a long silence on the other end.

“That’s an incredible risk you’re taking.”

“Sir, considering the threat, it’s worth it.”

“Do it. We’ll help you as best we can. When the scouts are through, we’ll feign defeat and pull back, luring in the rest. Good luck, Shepard.”

“Thank you sir. Shepard out.”

 

**2177 CE – August 05 th – Citadel Silver Strip – Crassus Tower 11:30 AM**

Garrus ignored the frequent buzzing from his omni-tool as he knew the sender, but the asari sitting across from him looked curious.

“Well?” she said after the fifth or sixth buzz. “Someone’s eager.”

“It’s Chellick,” Garrus said. “And I know nothing new since the last ten times he asked. I told him I’d let him know, and now he keeps nagging.”

“Would you be any different?”

“Yes, I’d be worse,” Garrus said with a sad smile.

“If anyone can make it out alive from Elysium, it’s Jane,” Eriela said soothingly.

“She shouldn’t have to, not so shortly after Korlus.”

“Perhaps not, but she chose to go, and she’s a soldier.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but..”

“Your heart is telling you otherwise,” Eriela said. “I understand.”

 

The door burst open, and Dmitri ran in and grabbed the remote control.

“We have live feed from ground!”

He zapped passed several stations before he found the one he wanted.

“ _Krrrzzts… ne Allers.. zzkkrrzzt… atarian slav..bzzt.. entering the.. zzzkkrr.. to be overrun..”_

In the background of those crackling words, they could see a massive ground swell of mainly batarian forces lining up behind their ships. The image was distorted and shaking, but they could still make out the Blue Sun emblazoned on the majority of the ships. One of the shuttles were still hovering in the air, firing round after round at the colony’s main gate.

“Spirits, no..” Garrus stood up without noticing, clutching and releasing his talons in sheer stress.

“They are too many,” Dmitri said darkly. “It will not be a fair fight. Like that woman says, the town will be overrun.”

Garrus turned his face and snarled at Dmitri, but the Russian didn’t seem to notice. “By god, Jane, I hope you have a plan.”

The transmission on the screen flashed wildly after the last missile had struck the door, but Eriela pointed at the screen.

“There! Did you see it? A tiny speck, not much more than a blink. The door is reinforced with a biotic barrier. No wonder it takes so many shots to bring down.”

“Jane,” Garrus breathed with desperate hope.

“Who else is that stupid?” Dmitri said, staring at the screen for more hints. “Run away, Jane. Even you cannot beat this.”

The shuttle fired another missile, and the gate came down in a hail of concrete dust and rebars. The cheering batarians outside made ready to enter, and their first soldiers were already climbing the rubble. As far as Garrus could tell, they met no resistance. Were all the defenders dead?

 

**2177 CE – August 05 th – Elysium – Three hours after the initial attack**

Shepard trembled as the last missile hit the door, straining her abilities to the max. A small line of blood already trickled from the corner of her mouth.

“Any time now, Argyle! You’re not on vacation!”

“Not enjoying the scenery?” he called from the back of the sluice.

The rest of her squad were still carrying the last charges around the sluice channel and covering them with wood pallets or under old tarp cuttings, while Argyle hooked everything up to a central detonator.

“Not really, those batarians are ugly fuckers!”

“One more to go, then we’re getting into cover.”

Another missile impacted the gate, and Shepard felt a small biotic flare creep away from her and flash past the gate. Damn. Hopefully no one saw that. She was getting exhausted, and would not last another hit.

“Done!” Argyle shouted. “You can release the gate, Shepard!”

“Everyone, into cover,” Shepard called out over the noise. “Remember, let the first wave past. Anyone who loosens as much as a sneeze answers to me!”

The squad split in two and climbed the two separate upper ducts after having barred the security doors shut. Argyle had assured that the upper floors would hold since the explosion would be mostly contained to the sluice, but there was no absolutes in this game.

“Ready,” she whispered over the radio.”

“Acknowledged,” was the only reply.

It was time to see if their daring plan bore fruit.

At the next impact, the gateway was blown apart, sending flying pieces of shrapnel everywhere. Through a minute fracture in the wall, Shepard could hear the guttural cheer of the batarians from the outside, and gritted her teeth. That exuberance would turn to lamenting sooner than they expected. The first scouts had already cleared the rubble and were passing by their elevated position. Shepard signaled the people on her side to remain low and silent, and hoped Argyle had similar control on his end. If they started firing now, or were discovered, everything was lost. The debris in the sluice helped cover up the charges lining the side walls further in, and the batarians moved further and further in. When the first party were through the inner gate without facing any resistance, more batarians moved forward. Shepard could see many of them carried slave collars and handling sticks. This would be quite a harvest for the Suns if her team failed.

Scattered gunfire and screams were heard from within the city, and the horde began to move faster. Their prey were in sight, and Shepard forced down a flit of fears. Once, that had been her. Not so today, today she was the predator, and they would fear her. As the Suns consisted of numerous different warbands, many of them happened to be rivals, and they began pressing inside the channel to get to their prize before the others could pick the field clean. In their stupidity and greed, they packed into the sluice, leaving a small number to fend for their shuttles.

When she saw the batarians had filled most of the sluice, Shepard opened a comms channel to Argyle.

“Now!” Then she clamped her ears.

 

**2177 CE – August 05 th – Citadel Silver Strip – Crassus Tower 11:55 AM**

Garrus watched in slack-mandibled horror while the explosion took out most of the batarian forces. The detonation started at the inner point of the breached wall and continued in a series of smaller explosions backwards towards the destroyed gate. Even with the bad feed, they saw body parts flung into the air.

“Spirits..”

“Боже мой!”

“By the Goddess..”

After several minutes, some stragglers staggered out of the tunnel towards the shuttles. The live feed was still terrible, but some of them was still smoking from the burns, and the remaining Suns ran up to help them.

“They are going to bombard the city after that.” Garrus said aghast. “They have nothing left to lose.”

“And Alliance is still 2 hours away,” Dmitri added. “There will be nothing left.”

Eriela said nothing, merely stared intently on the screen. There was something unnerving about an asari’s focus, and Garrus tried to understand what she was looking at. One of those armored batarians stumbling out of the tunnels looked obscenely large, and he was dragging with him a heavy minigun.

The injured Sun who’d first staggered out, was almost by the shuttles when he suddenly broke another Sun’s neck. In the next second, a shimmering biotic force slammed into the nearest guards. The large batarian planted the minigun under his arm and opened fire, causing an outbreak of panic in their ranks. Another line of covering fire came from the top floor over the gate.

“They’re not Suns!” Garrus exclaimed.

“God, she is still alive? Let her be alive!”

The biotic in batarian armor hopped and weaved between the ships until he or she reached the missile shuttle and ducked inside. The real batarians were now starting to regroup and fire back, but since everyone was still wearing the same armor, the firing was a little haphazard and resulted in a few cases of friendly fire. Two minutes later the biotic reappeared, now in full sprint away from the shuttles, and all the fake batarians followed suit. It wasn’t so much a strategic retreat as a full on flight, and Garrus had an inkling as to why. The person doing the filming had difficulties settling on who to follow, and the vid zoomed and swung from either side like a drunken pyjak, almost making Garrus sea sick. When the next blast came, the shuttle’s ammunition stores flared up like a deadly fireworks display, sending random salvos of shots and missiles in every direction. Before the vid-maker zoomed all in on the havoc, Garrus caught sight of a biotic barrier shielding the final retreating human, who’d lost his helmet and ran like a burned varren to escape. With 86,48% accuracy, Garrus would say that was Argyle.

Shuttle after shuttle was engulfed in the flames or hit by their burning counterparts. From his limited view, Garrus counted perhaps 5 lift-offs, and none of them were armed with outboard missile launchers. The colony was, well.. not safe, but saved. Most of it.

The camera blinked repeatedly before it flashed ‘low charge’ and powered down. The screen went black.

“What! Stupid human, change battery!”

“Easy, Dmitri. Jane probably lives, you saw the biotic.”

“Are there no other human biotics on Elysium? I need proof!”

“Hey, uh, that big guy we saw there, I’m pretty sure that’s Ivar Argyle. He’s in Jane’s squad.”

Dmitri got right up in Garrus’ face.

“Pretty sure Is.Not.Good.Enough.”

“Whoa, relax man. You’re worse than me.”

“Sweetheart, I think the baby’s crying,” Eriela said and winked at Garrus.

“Huh? Papa’s coming, Inessa.”

After her husband left, Eriela took Garrus hand and gave him a pat on the cowl.

“I’m sorry about that, but he tends to go a bit crazy when it comes to those two. He’s much more ‘normal in other situations.”

“I understand, believe me. But I also think she lives, all the evidence points to that.”

“Then we’re in agreement. Look, I’ll talk some sense into him, you go talk to Chellick.”

“He probably saw that too.”

“Maybe, maybe not. I’ll call you when our.. contacts make contact with Elysium.”

“All right.”

Garrus gave her a grateful nod and went in search of Chellick.

 

**2177 CE – August 05 th – C-Sec Zakera HQ – 12:45 PM**

He found Chellick hunched over at his desk, staring at his omni-tool.

“Hey you.”

Chellick looked up.

“Hey you? Where the fuck have you been? Have you seen this?”

He cued up the garbled video from Elysium. Garrus glanced at it.

“Yeah, I’ve seen it.”

“And? What do you think? That big human there, he could be that guy at the dock, right?” There was a hint of pleading in Chellick’s voice that unsettled even Garrus.

“I think that’s Argyle, yes.”

“Then that biotic soldier could be..”

“It’s very likely Jane, yeah.”

At hearing this, Chellick sank back down and hid his face in his hands.

“Spirits, I can’t take this much more.”

“Well, if you can’t...”

Chellick slammed his fists on the table and jumped to his feet.

“Then what? You’ll just swoop in and take over?”

“Never said anything of the sort, Chellick, relax.”

“Oh, you didn’t _say_ it,” Chellick snapped. “But you thought about it.”

“Don’t give me that whine, Chellick, I saw you take holos of me and that female to send to Jane.”

“AND WHAT DID YOU D-..”

“Ssssshhhhh!”

One of the officers in the next cubicle glared at them. Chellick lowered his voice.

“What did you do to me? That holo with you and Jane in bed? That was fucking cruel!”

“Not my fault you were on a date,” Garrus said, all his previous sympathy gone.

“THA-.. That was not my choice.”

“There’s always a choice, Chellick. Look, here comes uncle. Later.”

When he passed the Commissioner, Garrus gave a short salute and kept walking. Whatever Chellick was in for now, he wanted no part of it.

 

* * *

 

That uncle Venari had come to fetch his wayward nephew instead of just summoning him to the office was a grave sign, and sure enough, Pallin pulled him out of his chair and told him to follow him outside to the Presidium Lake. In these calm and serene surroundings, Chellick yet braced for the worst.

“I’m guessing that despite my orders to get back to work, you’ve been following the events on Elysium?” Pallin said disapprovingly.

“You can’t expect me to care about smuggler routes when my mate is in danger,” Chellick hissed and gazed over the lake. “I told you that.”

“Looks like the Alliance is 45 minutes away, and there has been some developments on the ground,” his uncle continued while ignoring Chellick’s outburst.

“From the looks of things, one of the squad who’s succeeding in warding off such a large scale assault is biotic. Any thought on who that is?”

Chellick said nothing and continued his study of the water.

“Your silence is childish. I have considered the variables. That human has a tendency to make a spectacle wherever she ends up. But if this IS her, you must end this.. folly.”

“I see no reason for that,” Chellick scoffed. “Anyone would be grateful to have such a capable mate.”

“And are you?” Pallin said slyly.

“Am I what?”

“A mate worth having? If that’s Shepard on that vid, she’ll be lauded as a hero. As you said, anyone would be interested in having her.”

“That has no relevance, she’s _my_ mate.”

“Human’s don’t bond like we do, their feelings come and go, but you.. You could be everything our family hopes for. The next Commissioner. Perhaps even the next Executor, after me.”

“Galenus Vakarian is Executor.”

“Some day he might retire, or return to Palaven to teach. Then will be the chance for our family’s rise. In any case, whatever might come, you must do right by your family.”

“Uncle Venari, I.. Jane and I are already bonded.”

“What?”

“It happened a long time ago, and you can’t change that.”

His uncle grabbed his shoulder.

“By the spirits, Decian.. I’ve always known you to be reckless, but this is above and beyond anything I could’ve imagined.”

“It wasn’t on purpose.”

“She made you do it? Tricked you?”

“No! It just happened, like with a turian female. I love her, and she loves me. I won’t stop seeing her, and I want her to become my lifemate.”

Pallin closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.

“That is out of the question. Do you even know the controversy-...”

“Yes, I know, and that’s why I’ve agreed to keep this a secret. But the Hierarchy’s relationship with the Alliance is getting better, our species are working together, some day I won’t need to. Until then, stop pestering me about this. I won’t change my mind.”

“You think this will change nothing? That she won’t change? Right now you’re just a junior officer in C-Sec. If Shepard comes out of this alive and a hero, she’ll have no benefit from you as a mate. You’re not equals anymore.”

“She loves me,” Chellick protested, but his uncle’s words sowed a tiny seed of doubt.

“For now.”

“Forever!”

“As you say,” Pallin said and rolled his eyes.

He left Chellick there, defiant but with a hint of fear in his firm beliefs. Uncle Pallin could not be right, right? Jane wouldn’t leave him if she became famous. She wouldn't. She loved him, he knew that. However.. a low tier turian rarely became the lifemate of a high tier turian. Was it the same for humans? He’d never asked, because they were still recruits when they bonded, but now..?

Chellick checked the news reel again. The Alliance reinforcements had arrived at Elysium and were cleaning up the stragglers. Perhaps the private channels for Elysium would be opened later. He needed to talk to Jane.

 

 

**2177 CE – August 05 th – Palaven – Adviser Vyrnnus’ Private Bomb Shelter – 21:23 PM**

Despan Vyrnnus paced the small room with increasing desperation. The entire operation had been compromised. With the death of Solem, his entire power base had gone off the rails and demanded revenge, and commenced an unauthorized attack on Elysium before the appointed time. While the destruction of several warbands and ships on Elysium were bad enough, the real problem lay in the manner of Solem’s death. A joint attack between the humans and the turians, even worse, by two former sworn enemies, the admiral and the Spectre. Such a display of cooperation would only help cement a budding alliance between the two species, and that was simply.. unacceptable. His ‘employer’ would deeply resent this development. Unless this new alliance could be made to be as if built on sand, shifting and unreliable, Vyrnnus himself would likely pay for this failure with his head, and he liked it where it was.

Down here in his ‘special’ space, a private line to the go-between ship could be made, and when a conversation was at an end, the ship would disappear until it was time. And now it was time.

The display blinked and the ringing announced that ‘he’ was back. Vyrnnus composed himself and accepted the call.

“Is the line safe,” the distorted voice said.

“As always.”

“Good. That’s one thing you’ve managed to get right today,” the voice growled.

“If this is about Elysium,” Vyrnnus tried, but was interrupted again.

“What else!? That colony was only moderately defended before, now they will build a damn fortress there to keep out their enemies. The Alliance will be alert, and with their newfound help from your precious Hierarchy, they will be more prepared than ever. How does this help our cause? You were supposed to prevent this from happening!”

“I tried my utmost, but controlling several rogue warbands from Palaven is not possible.”

“You’re right,” the voice said complacently.

Vyrnnus felt a chill, even in the summer heat.

“From Palaven, this must all seem so far away. Like you have no stake in the future. I think a more frontier position would suit you better, at least until you can drive a wedge between the humans and the turians.”

“But from this place, I’m uniquely situated to discuss matters with the Primarch.”

“Discuss it after,” the voice said dismissively. “Get this done, Vyrnnus, or I’ll send someone who will.”

Vyrnnus stared at the display, silently cursing the day he took this job.

“As you wish,” he said finally.

“Good. I hope you have good results for me soon.”

The line was cut.

He slammed the display case down and headed up the stairs into his house. The blaring announcement from the news reel featured a face he’d often seen in his dreams of revenge. One talon scratched the silver tip on his broken fringe spike as he saw the scared face of Jane Shepard announced as the hero of Elysium. It appeared someone else had given her a beating, leaving her without part of an ear. Good. That was nothing compared to what he would do to her, next time they met.

 

**2177 CE – August 05 th – Infiltrator, outside Palaven Air Space – 22:15 PM**

“Did you get everything?”

Saren glanced at the newly assigned sergeant from Blackwatch.

“Yes, sir. The voice was scrambled, we’re still working on that. Might take some time, or it might be impossible.”

“Good, good. Are you sure he didn’t notice?”

“No, sir. I’ve perfected the system. It’s leaps and bounds ahead of what I built on Eden Prime. Nobody in the fleet knows about it, only the company.”

“That’s why I requested you, Arista. All those years in development has not been wasted.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“You may continue your de-scrambling and analysis. Dismissed.”

The female swung her hips as she left, and Saren wasn’t sure if she was doing it just to tempt him or not. No matter, he wasn’t in the habit of chasing plates just out of school, and her other skills were more valuable than those of the bed sheets.

More importantly, Vyrnnus had been forced into action, as he suspected. The problem was, whomever was giving Despan orders trusted him enough to leave him to contrive a plan of his own. That meant they had to keep a round the clock watch on him at all times. Hmm.. Saren wondered how much interaction there had been between the former biotic instructor and the regular turian soldiers at Gagarin. Should he risk putting the newly minted sergeant at the front? It could be worth the risk, but on the other hand, he’d be gambling with one of the more brilliant minds Blackwatch had ever recruited, and they would sear his plates off if he got this wrong. He shrugged. Let the choice be hers. If Arista said no, that was the end of it. If she thought it safe, they could uncover the hidden hand behind years of conspiracies and machinations. It might just be the chance he’d been looking for.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh, a new year, how great :D  
> Aaaaand back on overtime. Gaah.. Wasn't I here just two weeks ago? Well, at least I got inspired to push out a new chapter for you :D  
> Enjoy!


	64. Pairings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chellick faces difficulties at work, and someone else is very happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Light smut

**2177 CE – August 10 th – C-Sec HQ – 10:45 AM**

Several days had passed since the Blitz, but it was only yesterday that Chellick managed to contact Jane through the normal channels. The Alliance had arrived at Elysium in full force, practically closing down the air space around the planet and beyond. Nothing was moving in or out without their say-so, and that included communications. The stilted reply he got made him uneasy for a minute, until he realized that every message was probably monitored, or she believed they were. Perhaps not a good idea to have written that he missed her terribly, but anyway..

Besides that, Jane had tried to imply that there was a chance of her returning to the Citadel in a month or so, and wrote in so many words that she looked forward to all the delights of the big city. Something in that phrase made his mouth water, and he made a mental note of reserving a day or two off for her arrival.

 

“There he is!” one of the chiefs boomed. “The turian of the hour!”

Chellick glanced up from his omni-tool. “What?”

“You’re Decian Chellick? I’m Chief Joram Talid, head of Zakera’s organized crime unit. Those maps of yours, tracking the criminals from point of production to distribution here on the Citadel? We just had a major breakthrough, thanks to you.”

The older turian was bare-faced, with a white face and graying crest and mandibles. Chellick felt a stab of mistrust, but the man could have been born outside turian controlled space, there was nothing wrong with that. Just old prejudices, he reminded himself.

“I’m very happy to hear that,” Chellick said. “Anything I can contribute to reduce crime is my duty.”

Joram flared his mandibles.

“I’m happy to hear you say that, since I’ve requested your transfer to my unit. I need a sharp mind like yours.”

The OCU was a prestigious unit, and Chellick swelled with pride. He was a worthy mate, said a stray thought in his head.

“Thank you, sir. When will I be transferred?”

“Tomorrow, if the higher ups accept my request. I don’t foresee a problem, not when you want to join. Come see me after you’ve settled in, I have a small briefing I do with all newcomers.”

“Yes, sir.”

 

* * *

 

At lunch, he had expected Garrus to be a little bit envious, but the sniper seemed hesitant to say anything about Chellick’s new unit. Besides, as Chellick could see for himself, Garrus had a new commendation ribbon on his chest, and had quickly become one of the go-to-guys for breach and clear. The more action packed day of the strike team suited him just fine.

“Not even a word, Garrus? I expected you to say something, at least. Like, ‘hey, now I don’t have to see your ugly face on my way down to the armory.’”

“The thought crossed my mind,” Garrus said, “but I’m much to polite to say that.”

He tapped his talons on the table, before he offered the first thing he’d said without prodding that day.

“Have you, uh, spoken with Talid before?”

“No, but he’s the head of the unit, he doesn’t usually mingle with the junior officers.”

“Right,” Garrus said flatly. “Have you heard of his reputation?”

“He’s efficient, a little hard-spoken and respected, even though he’s bare-faced. Why?”

“He’s, uh, not fond of aliens,” Garrus said and took a drink from his mug.

“Many old timers aren’t fond of aliens,” Chellick countered. “Doesn’t mean they aren’t professional.”

“No, no, of course not, but.. Talid is a tad.. extreme, one might say.”

“That’s just rumors, Vakarian. Stop being a killjoy.”

“Fine. Forget I said anything,” Garrus mumbled and continued eating his lunch.

“Hey, it’s our new rookie,” a tall brown-plated turian said and sat down beside Chellick. “I’m Jarik Rutso, and I’m to be your training officer during the first months. Heard you’ll get your transfer tomorrow. Can’t wait to get away from these softies, I can imagine.” He grinned at Garrus, whom returned the smile with an irritably mandible flick.

“Whooped your asses pretty good on the range last week,” he said dismissively.

“Not saying you can’t shoot, Vakarian, just that you have a soft spot for aliens. We’ve all heard the rumors.”

“What rumors are those?” Garrus asked.

“You and that lady doctor. Heard she’s left you a few messages at the front desk.”

Chellick perked his fringe and smiled at Garrus. “Really?”

“That’s right,” Jarik laughed. “Can you imagine banging one of these meat sacks, I bet their skin would be raw from a proper turian fucking.”

Chellick had barely swallowed his water and caught some the wrong way, eliciting a big coughing fit. Jarik slapped him on the cowl a few times.

“I know, it’s downright disturbing. Glad you haven’t fallen into deviancy, Chellick. Don’t want that sort with us. Vakarian, hope you won’t fall for some easy pussy. Have you heard their ambassador on the news reel?”

“No?” Chellick said,

“Yes,” Garrus sighed.

“Got to get updated, Chellick, The boss likes it that way. That Udina character is blaming the turian hunt for Solem Dal’Serah for the attack on Elysium. He’s talking about reparations for the destruction of the human colony. Can you imagine? The nerve of those people!”

“It’s just political bluster,” Garrus said. “We would’ve said the same had the roles been reversed.”

“Hmm.. I guess we have to keep an eye on you, Vakarian. Not living up to your old man’s standard right now. See you tomorrow, Chellick.”

When Jarik had left, Garrus leaned over the table and whispered “That reputation” to a bewildered Chellick.

 

 

**2177 CE – August 10 th – Venari Pallin’s Office – 15:39 PM**

“I’m sorry, Decian, but the transfer is already completed,” Pallin said with a hint of satisfaction in his voice. “It's out of my talons now.”

“But Joram Talid is a bigot,” Chellick protested. “I can’t work for him.”

“He’s more of a traditionalist than those you’ve worked with before, but bigot is taking things a bit too far. Remember, your opinion is not the only one that matters. Joram has served this station with honor for years. You’re barely in your second.”

“Uncle, I..”

“I’m not your uncle in these matters, I’m the Commissioner of C-Sec. I can’t be seen to be doing favors. Joram informed the Captain that you accepted the transfer, and so it is done.”

“That was before I knew the truth,” Chellick mumbled.

“What truth? That he trusts the Hierarchy? That he’s loyal to his people? Hardly a damnation, Decian.”

“It’s more the way he expresses that loyalty,” Chellick tried.

“Stop right there. I won’t hear anything else. Unless you have something relevant to disclose, the matter is closed. I won’t have it said that one of my own family refuses to do his duty to the Hierarchy.”

“No, Commissioner,” Chellick, said in a defeated voice and saluted.

Pallin returned the salute and watched as his nephew slogged out of his office. That had been almost too easy. A few chosen words to Joram, and his kin was in more suitable company than the pro-alien faction in Investigations. It was time he returned to the fold.

 

**2177 CE – October 28 th – Flux – 03:45 AM**

“I love you guys,” Argyle announced to the huddled group who was trying to steady him from falling down.

“Yeah, yeah, we love you too,” Strabo hissed and grabbed a waving arm. “Would you stop announcing that to the world?”

“Some of us might get in trouble,” Castor said and propped up the swaying giant from the other side. “I’m not supposed to be loving on other guys.”

“You’re pretty cute,” Argyle said and leaned his head on Castor’s shoulder. “Ravarn’s a lucky guy.”

“Are all humans this maudlin when they get drunk?” Aius asked.

“Probably,” Garrus said. “I’ve carried quite a few of them to our cells, and any minute now there could be singing.”

“Spirits, no.” Strabo said with a horrified expression. “I’m standing next to him. Remember when he tried to sing Die for the Cause?”

There was a collective groan from the group.

“Guys, I’m still here,” Argyle said. “Another round!”

The sentence was met with a chorus of “Nooooo!”

“You guys are boring,” he shouted. “This is supposed to be a stag party. Where’s the strippers?”

“You remember the deal,” Strabo explained again. “Mevia is having her.. hen?, whatever party at Chora’s Den. She’s getting all the strippers, and you’re allowed to get drunk off your ass with us. Your best mates.”

“Beshh mmmts..”

“Thank the spirits, he’s finally slurring,” Castor muttered. “That means we can drag this over-sized lump home and get some sleep before the ceremony.”

“We know you won’t be sleeping, Sorio,” Aius laughed. “You’re after some sweet salarian ass tonight.”

“Sssshhh, keep it down, will you?”

“Wherss mmmmy luuv,” Argyle hiccuped. “Mevia? MEEEEVIIAAAAA?”

“And there goes my ears.” Strabo shook his head. “I could’ve been in bed with Nirea, but noooo. Some silly human tradition, and I don’t even get strippers.”

“Wonder how the ladies are doing?” Garrus said.

“Probably much better than us.” Aius looked around. “Argyle’s hollering has scared all the females away.”

Garrus returned from the upper floor where he’d been busy with filming the distressed group.

“This is hilarious. We should show some of it at the wedding ceremony.”

“Stop cavorting around like a kid and lend a hand,” Strabo hissed, and Garrus laughingly acquiesced.

 

**2177 CE – October 28 th – Chora’s Den – 03:48 AM**

“Woooohooo, shake that thing!”

Shepard and Nirea could do nothing but stare as Mevia had climbed onto the counter and was wiggling her butt in rhythm with the music and the swaying asari next to her.

“Shouldn’t we, you know, get her down,” Nirea whispered.

“Not before I get a good vid of this,” Shepard said and shot a small video of Mevia doing her thing while touching someone elses things too.

“Spirits, what must those krogans think of us,” Nirea said. “I shudder to think about tomorrow.”

“Relax, they’re Urdnots, I happen to know some of the most prominent Urdnots there is. As long as nobody recognizes me from the news reel today, I’ll consider this mission a success.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Nirea said with a glum expression. “I never knew Mevia could drink this much, and I’ve seen her down a whole bottle of horosk. And, with that ear covered, you don’t look like yourself.”

“That’s what I was aiming at. So, getting married or lifemated is a big thing, I gather,” Shepard said and zoomed out in time for Mevia’s swirl around the stripper pole.

“Yes, the biggest thing there is. Mevia and Argyle are too young according to our traditions, but they wouldn’t hear a word about it.”

“With the situation between our species, I can’t say I blame them,” Shepard sighed and put her omni-tool down.

“How are things going with you and Chellick?”

“It’s pretty good, actually, even if he’s been under a lot of pressure lately. He acted a bit strange during the award ceremony this morning, but it worked out fine.”

Nirea smiled and nudged her in the ribs. “I know you know how to de-stress a turian.”

Shepard grinned back. “That’s true. Might have to pull out a few tricks la-.. MEVIA! Leave that poor turian alone!”

Mevia had jumped down on the other side of the counter and was purring loudly at the green-plated bartender who was backing away with a frightened expression. Shepard could see why he’d grabbed her interest, those shimmering chameleon plates made him look ravishing. If not for the fact that she already had a boyfriend and Mevia was getting married tomorrow, she might have fought Mevia for him. Nirea assisted her in grabbing the bride and dragged her back over the counter. From the corner of her eye, Shepard could see the manager making her way over to them.

“You and your friends are cut-off!” she barked. “Please leave!”

“One more dance,” Mevia said with watery eyes.

“Not a chance. Out! Now!”

“Well, I guess that’s that,” Shepard said and started pushing Mevia towards the exit. “I already have a guy waiting for us.”

Nirea raised her brow plates. “Chellick’s been out there all night?”

“Nah, I called him half an hour ago, said it was only a matter of time before we were evicted.”

“He’s a nice guy,” Nirea smiled. “Nice guys deserve a reward.”

“Hey, I can reward my guy, don’t worry about that. Where’s your guy?”

“The last message I got said they were carrying Argyle out of Flux, almost broke and completely drunk.”

“Haha, I’d say a successful evening on both fronts then,” Shepard laughed. “Let’s get Mevia back to her place, and make what we can out of the rest of the night.”

“I’m with that,” Nirea said and tried to hold Mevia from the other side.

The bride to be had started to sing lewd turian military songs, to the consternation of her friends and the amusement of the other guests.

 

**2177 CE – October 28 th – Chellick’s Place – 05:04 AM**

“Thank the spirits we’re back,” Chellick said and threw himself on the couch. “I thought we’d never get her out of the skycar.”

“Mevia thought we were ditching her,” Shepard smiled and sat down beside him. “It was understandable. Plus she was drunk.”

“What I can’t understand is why she’d willingly put herself through some insane human wedding ritual.”

“Maybe because Argyle has agreed to take on her beliefs about spirits, and he’s trying his hardest to understand her strange little ways?”

“Argyle is converting? Weird. That’s not required.”

“He said the spirit belief makes more sense to him than a lot of our religions. I think it’s cute.”

Decian opened one eye and observed her.

“Cute, huh? Looking at humans again. Should I be worried?”

Shepard snuck her fingers under his shirt and let her fingers run in the narrow junctions between his plates. “Nah, I like this.”

Decian let out a long sigh and shuffled around on the couch to make his waist available to her.

“Want something,” she said playfully and danced her fingertips over his exposed hide.

Decian was already clawing his talons into the fabric of the sofa, but he contained his vocalizations to a short huff.

“The strong and silent type, huh?”

Decian gave a snarky purr, and Shepard’s smile widened. With one hand she managed to open his undersuit and let her thumb gently roll down the front of his groin plates.

“So what are you wearing tomorrow? The green or the gray suit?”

“Mrrgh, wha? Are you really talking about getting dressed when you’re _un_ dressing me?” Decian said accusingly and started unbuttoning his shirt. Under her fingers, his plates were already opening.

“Is _that_ where you think this is going?”

She winked and made small circles with her thumb on the underlying seam.

“Such a dirty minded turian. You know there’s no sex until lifemating.”

“No nookie until I’m in my thirties? You’re dreaming, human.”

Decian jumped up and pulled her down under him.

“You’re too slow, Jane. We have to be up in a few hours, and I need my sleep. It’s been a long day.”

“Sleep then,” she laughed and smacked him in the face with a cushion.

“Not until I get paid for my taxi services,” he growled and began pulling at her pants.

She lifted her hips so he could pull them away, and yanked at the shirt he still wore.

“Does your boss know you moonlight as a cabbie and demanding sex for your services?”

“Sure. I just have to tape every encounter to show him.”

“Damn, I want to see too.”

“Later,” he panted and freed himself from the cumbersome shirt. Next was the belt and buckles on his uniform pants. For a species who weren’t very bendy, they sure loved having zippers and locks everywhere, Shepard mused as she unclasped the spur protectors.

“Something is very wrong with this picture,” Decian said and looked down himself who was naked, and then Shepard, whom was still wearing a t-shirt and bra.

“Looks pretty good from where I’m laying.”

“Not a chance,” Decian said. “You got five seconds before they’re ripped.”

“Whoa, whoa, I like this shirt.”

“One. Two.”

“Okay, okay.” She wriggled madly and got the t-shirt removed.

“Three. Fooouuur...”

“Trying!”

“Fi-...”

The bra flew threw the air, and Decian began purring again when he had view of her breasts.

“I missed these,” he said and bent down to run a long blue tongue over one nipple.

The warm wet sensation made her shiver, and her back arched.

“I missed this too,” she whispered, and her mouth found his, licking his mouth plates gently before meeting his tongue in a deep kiss.

It was her first day back, just in time for the award ceremony, then the surprise party for Mevia thrown _by_ Mevia, and now she was back at Decian’s place, finally alone with him, and Shepard intended to have him, hard and fast.

After he’d grabbed a condom from the optimistically big box on the table and rolled it on, he kissed her again before he started to lick her breasts. She coiled her legs around his spurs and pressed against his now unsheathed cock. Decian wasn’t hard to ask, he immediately grabbed hold of his cock and pressed it between her folds. For a second, she thought he was going to tease her, but he merely slowed down to admire how easily his blue slid inside her pink. When he’d almost bottomed out, he pressed his forehead to hers and snapped his hips, filling her with the last inch. Shepard threw her head back and moaned. Decian’s smug chuckle inspired her to grab his waist with one hand and placed the other behind his fringe.  
“Jane, for spirits sake, you’re going to make me come just from that,” he groaned and began thrusting faster.

“It’s a race then.”

“Oh no it isn’t!”

Shepard smiled and continued to fondle his waist while nipping at his mandibles. To prevent himself from succumbing to her wiles, he hissed and pressed his nose in her neck to deprive her of access to his sensitive tips. Just how successful she was became apparent when he struggled an arm down and removed one of hers from touching his taut waist. Shepard found herself to be half pinned, half cuddled and fully fucked by a very eager and stubborn turian. She’d just about given up getting loose when he turned the tables on her and began lapping at her neck. The hot zealous tongue licked her collar bone, plates nipped at her ear and the only respite to be found was when Decian had to find time for a moan of his own.

He was usually very gentle, but sometimes when she teased him she found this other side, a dominant and playful one she loved bringing out in him, and he loved being released like this. It was always give and take, and right now, she was the giver and he was the taker. His furious pace couldn’t last forever, and Shepard could feel the small tremors in his chest that always superseded his stamina and would build his budding orgasm to a crescendo of thundering rumbles, always growing in strength from each time they met. Decian was nearing his fully grown voice, and the purr to match.

The small grunts and snarls told her he was nearing the vibrating stage of a turian amorous encounter, and when she tried to move, he grabbed her other hand and pinned both above her head, fucking her almost through the couch, and still he found time to press his crest to her forehead. The small gesture in the middle of being completely ravished had Shepard filled with raw devotion for him, coupled with the surge of her own orgasm. To help, she lifted her hips in rhythm with his thrusts, one, two, three, four more times before she cried out his name. Decian pushed inside her again, staying inside this time and began to shiver and tremble from his talons to his toes. The muscles in his neck stood out like vines. she could hear fabric tearing, and then came the soft twitches inside her when he started to come.

 

* * *

 

Decian’s orgasm lasted for several minutes, and Jane nuzzled his face plates and stroked his fringe while he clung to her like he was drowning. When his last semen reserves were spent, they carefully separated. Jane’s sweaty skin was slightly stuck on his plates wherever they touched. Decian discreetly disposed of the condom and returned to find her already relocated to his bed. He slid down beside her and pulled the smaller human closer to him and listened to her breathing for a long time. This was one of the moments he loved, his mate in his arms, worn out by their lovemaking and sleeping soundly. He hadn’t dared to tell her too much about his new team because she would worry about him. As if she didn’t have enough problems, she’d extend that worry to entail him too. Jane was special. Joram and Jarik and the rest of them had often discussed how destabilizing the humans’ presence were in the galaxy, and they had been spiteful that the award ceremony for the skyllian blitz were being held on the Citadel. Hopefully they hadn’t seen him attending as a guest. Waste of Citadel resources, they said, as if the Alliance hadn’t provided dozens of soldiers to assist. Jane wasn’t destabilizing. Not her. His Jane. Even Mevia, that hard-assed turian recon-scout had picked a human as a lifemate. They weren’t all bad. Someday, the world would realize, that was his last thought before he drifted after Jane into the world of dreams.

 

**2177 CE – October 28 th – Outside Secret Temple – 09:45 AM**

“Decian Chellick, I hate you, you unfeeling beast,” Shepard complained as she squinted at the bright lights. “Five more minutes would have done miracles.”

“I gave you five minutes, and then five minutes, and another five minutes, you whining human,” Decian said without a slither of sympathy. “We were going to be late for the big day.”

“Why couldn’t they have gotten married in some hidden den of vice and immorality,” Shepard muttered, but she took the pain blockers and water he handed over and downed them without even looking at them. “In secret and alone.”

“Because they wanted all their respectable..” He paused and glanced at her. “Well, nearly respectable friends there.”

“I despise you, lover.”

“Good, because I despise you too. Here the rest of them come.”

Aius was a sad sight, having gone back to the Flux to hit on some unsuspecting asari, and by the look of what he was wearing, lip stick marks and all, he hadn’t had time to go home and change.

“Spirits, is that painkillers? Hand them over, or watch me hurl.”

“These are levo, ask Decian the Cruel if he has any dextro.”

“Chellick?” Aius pleaded.

Decian shook his head. “All right. But only because I’m so nice.”

Strabo and Nirea arrived walking arm in arm and looking thoroughly satisfied.

“Hey Shepard, did you get Mevia delivered?”

“’Course I did,” Shepard said without so much as a grateful glance at Decian. “She’s inside with the priest.”

“Hey, aren’t you forgetting something,” he said.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, the lummox helped.”

“No more painkillers for you,” he hummed and blew hot air in her hair.

The next to arrive was Castor and Ravarn, both looking like the pages of a fashion magazine. Castor had a black suit with a magenta shirt that augmented his eyes, and Ravarn wore a dark blue tuxedo with black lapels and a colorful tie in a traditional salarian pattern. With the matching gray skin tone he was gorgeous, something that wasn’t lost on his boyfriend.

“Wow, you both look stunning,” Shepard said to the grinning pair.

Ravarn held out a hand and they shook warmly.

“Nice to see you again, Shepard. Looking tired? Not much sleep? Inadvisable, turian ceremonies can take hours, much exchanging of gifts and promises. I had exactly 6 hours and 23 minutes of sleep before Castor came home last night, and then we spent the next 62 minutes on sexua-..”

“I think that’s all the details our friends need,” Castor said hurriedly. “Time to go inside, I think. Where’s Argyle?”

“He’s being poured out of the skycar as we speak,” Nirea giggled and pointed at a large figure falling out of the taxi and rolling on the pavement.

“I’ll get him,” Strabo said.

“I’ll lend a hand,” Shepard chuckled. “See you inside, Decian.”

 

“Hey guys,” Argyle said and tried to get up. “Might’ve had one too many last night. Where’s my bride?”

Strabo held out a hand. “Inside, trying to keep her brain from escaping through her ears. She had one or two too many as well.”

“Hah, I knew she was the one for me. Help me up.”

Strabo and Shepard hoisted their friend from the ground and the three of them walked unsteadily to the entrance.

“Get inside, I can take it from here,” Argyle said.

Strabo looked closely at him. “Are you sure.”

“I’m fine guys, but I can’t be seen to be escorted to the altar. Makes it seem like I want to run away.”

The two who weren’t getting hitched glanced at each other, then nodded. It made sense.

“Okay, but if you don’t walk in when the choir start, we’re coming for you.”

“I’ll be there,” Argyle promised as he leaned on the wall. “In a bit.”

Strabo hummed.

“If you say so. It’s not my plates in harms way.”

 

**2177 CE – October 28 th – Turian Food Emporium – 14:32 PM**

“To the happy couple!” Garrus whispered and hoisted his glass.

While they had their own table in a quiet area of the restaurant, there were still other guests around them.

“To the happy couple,” the rest of the group murmured and smiled at the married pair.

Mevia’s eyes were sparkling with joy, and Argyle was brimming with pride. She was wearing one of the rings he had made for them, and smiled and joked more than any of them had ever seen before.

Shepard noticed another pair looking meaningfully at each other and leaned over to Decian.

“Think it’ll be long before Strabo and Nirea tie the knot?”

Decian widened his eyes and sprayed turian champagne down Aius neck. Realizing what she’d said, Shepard clamped her mouth and tried not to laugh out loud.

“Chellick?! You disgusting sloth, look at what you did!” Aius wiped the bubble water from his shirt. “How am I going to attract females while covered in your slobber?”

“You could always take off your shirt,” Shepard said and pretended to leer at him. “That always makes an impression on me.”

“Is that sooo..?” He leaned over with wiggling mandibles. “I knew you were lusting for me, Shepard. You can tie my knot any day.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Decian pressed his face between them. “Keep your damn knot to yourself, you.. you..”

“Lost for words?” Aius goaded.

“Turian of loose morals!” was the best Decian could come up with, and both Aius and Shepard guffawed at the helpless curse.

“What’s so funny up there?” Mevia demanded.

“A certain turian is getting lurid with my mate,” Chellick said sourly.

“To be expected,” Strabo said. “He can’t help it.”

“Chellick sprayed all over my head,” Aius announced, to a gale of laughter from Four.

“Aius is a sweetheart,” Shepard chuckled and Aius purred loudly in response.

“You, sit back,” Decian ordered Aius, “and you, behave!” he glared at her.

In the background, Garrus stifled his chuffs.

“All right, all right. So sensitive..” Shepard gave him a broad smile and a quick pat on the thigh.

“Can we get back to admiring my wife now?” Argyle asked. “And I hope you’ve saved room for desserts, because I’ve ordered three courses, dextro and a special order of levo.”

“Spirits.”

“Yes!”

“I’ll get fat.”

“These courses are actually more than three courses, because one course can consist of-...”

“Yeah yeah, just eat.”

“Yum.”

“Salarian sugar orbs looks just like congealed turian eyeballs when the corpse is-..”

“Ravarn!”

“What?”

“Just eat.”

The group staggered out of the restaurant three hours later, after much more food and a few drinks to repair from the night before. Strabo came up beside Shepard and grinned.

“I hope you’ll come for mine and Nirea’s party too.”

“Have you decided?”

“We’re bonded, if that’s what you mean, but not officially yet. Official pairings can be long affairs, families passing judgment on the other mate, the matter of tier and fortune, things can get a bit stuffy.”

“Your family decides?” Shepard asked.

“No, but they give advice. Whether the turian in question takes that advice is altogether different. Anyway, it doesn’t matter with me, because Nirea and I are same tier, and our families are of equal standing.”

“Would you have taken advice?” Shepard winked.

“If it said mate with Nirea, sure. If not, then..” He shrugged. “We’ll come up together, like you and Chellick. Just.. be careful with his uncle. We’ve heard things.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Things?”

“Pallin didn’t become second hand to Executor Vakarian for his love of humans, that’s all.”

“Right.. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Good. Just a heads up from a friend.”

Shepard reached around and hugged him.

“Thanks, Strabo.”

“I turn my back to get a skycar, and I find you in the arms of a human.” Nirea smiled and drummed her talons on her arm plate.

Mevia came up to them and flared her mandibles impossibly wide. “Hey, it happens. They are quite cuddly.”

“Mhm.”

“You can have him back now, I got what I wanted,” Shepard said and pretended to push Strabo towards his girlfriend. “One used turian, coming up.”

“Eeeeww..”

“Hey!”

Chellick and Garrus came back in time for the last laughs.

“The skycars are here now. Time to go.”

“Thanks, Chellick. It’s time for our very short honeymoon,” Argyle said. “Shepard, I’ll see you at the docks when our ship leaves. The rest of you creeps, I hope we can get together and have some drinks real soon, all of us.”

“I hope so too,” Garrus said. “It’s been great seeing you all again.”

“When the next couple is getting hitched, maybe?” Shepard hinted and wiggled her eyebrows at Nirea. Poor Nirea didn’t know which foot to stand on, and hemmed and hawed to distract attention.

“This is going to draw out forever, you guys,” Aius said. “We’ll all miss each other a lot, send more messages, don’t get killed. I think that covers it.”

“Dude, way to spoil the mood,” Castor said with an eye roll.

“He’s right. And you’re stealing time from my bedtimes,” Mevia hinted with a thundercloud above her head.

Everybody was suddenly waving goodbye and disappearing into the waiting skycars.

 

“There, they’re all gone,” Mevia whispered to Argyle. “Want to retire?”

“Hell yeah. I’m yours for the night, milady.”

“Forever, Ivar,” Mevia hummed.

It caused quite a stir when she kissed him out on the open street.

 

**2177 CE – November 15 th – The Infiltrator – 11:15 AM**

“Still no luck on the voice?”

Saren swirled around in his swivel chair.

“I’m sorry sir. We’ve eliminated elcor, vorcha, krogan and hanar,” Arista said apologetically.

“Which leaves all the prime suspects still in play.”

“Yes, sir. Maybe with another sample..”

“We shall see. In the meantime, are you ready to go undercover?”

“Yes, sir. I got the new identity today, and its’ being planted in the main Palaven server now.”

“You are certain he won’t recognize you?”

“Not with these fake colony colors, sir. I never saw him that often. And I can speak with a perfect Altakiril accent, sir, my father’s from there.”

“Good. Good. Don’t provoke him, and most of all, do NOT impede his schemes in any way. Just record and report.”

“No matter what, sir?”

“No matter what, sergeant. Vyrnnus is the small fish in a big pond. I want the whale.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Good luck to you, corporal Resta Davinos. You’ll need it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this?  
> Another early chapter, due to the fact that I have to work next weekend and have to prepare for next weeks chapter already?  
> Oh my..  
> Aren't we reading happy things, people? Bright, sunny days in this story, smiles and laughter.. Why would that ever change? No reason, nooo reason at all!  
> *rubs hands together and cackles maniacally*


	65. Calm before the storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chellick hears some disturbing news, and Vyrnnus does disturbing things.

**2177 CE – December 21 st – Despan Vyrnnus’ Home – 03:24 AM**

The small remote controller spun quickly between his fingers as Vyrnnus absentmindedly changed the feed every three seconds. Most of the channels were local stations with shows from Palaven or nearby colonies, but there were travel channels from Thessia, science programs from Sur’Kesh, and whatever crap filtered out of Earth nowadays. That was of little import. The slivers of a plan had been forming in his head for a while, an idea to shatter the fickle but growing relationship between the Alliance and the Hierarchy. Primarch Fedorian had taken note when Saren solicited his most ardent enemy to defeat a common foe, and had began talks of expanding their cooperation. Those cretins in Blackwatch announced their support for this move, and Vyrnnus had a feeling they were further along that path than they were ready to admit. There was no use in trying to infiltrate that organization as of yet, sadly. He’d found no eligible candidate for corruption, and would more likely be ousted himself.

Vyrnnus reached into his pocket and fished out a data crystal. It was identical to the one he’d stolen on Gagarin, with added information about the turian fleet and personnel. Even having it was treason, but the information it contained was worth the risk. It was updated once a month to help him ward off any of Saren’s spies, and had proven a valuable tool. The holoscreen blinked, and another rerun of the award ceremony for Shepard oozed into view. _Shepard_.

Shepards, Shepards, Shepards. Everywhere one showed up, trouble followed soon after. He slammed the remote on the table. Shepard was the key. Either the new ‘ _hero_ ’ or the admiral. As famous as they were, any type of incident would be very effective. Vyrnnus gazed into the crystal. A plan were starting to take shape. There was something that might work with the bombshell effect he needed, if only.. He had to check the data on the crystal before he could say for certain.

 

**2178 CE – January 09 th – Decian Chellick’s office – 12:12 PM**

His position at the Organized Crime Unit was proving to be both exciting and educational, and Chellick found that he liked the work. When their minds were on the job, his new colleagues on his floor were professional and likable, as long as they stayed away from discussing aliens and politics. Jarik Rutso had proven a good teacher, and Chellick felt he’d gotten a grasp of how the OCU did things pretty fast. His uncle was less obtrusive, he and Jane were in frequent contact and Garrus was seeing a red-plated female instructor. That last part was a relief, and Chellick could focus on his work even when Jane wasn’t around. The only problem, if it was a problem, was that the daughter of Joram Talid kept asking him out, and he had to invent new excuses every time. Jarik had surmised he had a mate and kept grilling him about details, but Chellick kept his mouth firmly shut on the subject. This was not the time to come out as a xenophile.

He was sorting through some prime suspects in a shooting at the lower wards when Venari Pallin knocked at the open door. He wore a grim expression, and Chellick felt his heart sink.

“Decian, a word?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“There’s been an accident on Titan Academy,” Pallin said. “Your father is among the injured.”

Chellick stood up.

“What? How?”

“As far as I know, one of the students in his explosive ordnance disposal training broke into the compound at night and attempted to make a bomb. He tripped the alarm when he was almost done. Marek was among the responders along with some other guards. The student was from Taetrus,” Pallin added as an afterthought. “The boy was killed outright, but your father caught some of the blast. He’s in hospital now.”

Chellick’s mandibles drooped.

“Spirits. My mother?”

“My sister’s been told, and has taken leave from her duties at the Palace. Decian, if you need some time away..”

“I.. I have to speak to my mother first.”

“Of course. Take the rest of the day.”

“My job.. I have to.. Joram..”

“I’ll explain to Joram.”

Chellick gave Pallin a weak smile. “Thanks.”

“It’s for family, Decian. Go call your mother.”

Before he was even out of the room, Chellick was punching the number to his mother.

 

“Hello? Mom? Mom.”

“Decian, hi. Did Venari tell you?”

“Yes, how’s dad? Is he okay? Is he.. is he...”

“He’ll live, but two of the guards won’t,”

His mothers’ voice was hoarse and strained, like she was holding back her pain from twanging through the call.

“I can come home if you or dad needs me. Uncle said it would be okay.”

“Decian, I… I have to ask, is your job safe?”

“What do you mean, safe? It’s dad!”

“That’s not what I meant. Your dad, he.. He’s going to lose the leg.”

Chellick drew his breath heavily, and hung over the table.

“Decian, are you there?”

He gathered himself and focused.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Your dad has coverage, but there is a wait list. He’s behind every active personnel in the Hierarchy. We can buy an earlier spot in a private clinic, but..”

“I can help,” Chellick said quickly. “I can ask for more overtime, or a raise.”

On the other line, he heard his mother’s subvocals thrum with relief.

“Thank you. I didn’t want to ask my brother for more credits, we already owe him so much.”

Chellick froze.

“You owe uncle Venari credits?”

“It’s a long story, Decian. When your father had to be retired from C-Sec, we lost a lot of income. We.. almost lost the house.”

“Spirits.”

“We didn’t tell you back then, we were doing good until.. until..”

Here her self control broke and he could hear stifled subharmonics thrum mournfully. He tried to hum at her, to reassure his mother that everything would be all right. They were on opposite sides of a vast expanse, but Chellick could feel her despondency as if she was standing next to him.

“I’m sorry, Decian. I can’t..”

“I know, mom. I’ll help. Just.. be there for dad, okay?”

“We never meant for you to-..”

“I’ll help, mom. I’ll go ask my boss right now.”

“Decian.. You’re a good son. Thank you.”

“Call me if there are any changes, and tell dad I said hi, and I love him.”

“I will. The doctor’s here, I have to go.”

“Send me an update when you can. Bye, mom.”

 

**2178 CE – January 09 th – Joram Talid’s office – 13:16 PM**

Chellick approached the office and saw that his uncle was already outside, speaking to Joram in hushed tones. When they saw him approach, Pallin gave Joram a short nod and left. Joram gave Chellick a sympathetic smile and hummed at him.

“Come inside, Decian. Your uncle just informed me that your father has been in an accident?”

“Yes, sir.

“Do you need free time to visit family? I’m sure we can make something work.”

“No, sir, quite the opposite. I need extra work. That new big sting, I want to work overtime. If I can.”

Joram studied his face for a while, then nodded.

“I understand. More than you think. I’ll find the funds, don’t worry. I’ll notify the crew that you’re allowed to max out your hours.”

Chellick relaxed his shoulders.

“Thank you, sir. I’m very grateful.”

“I protect my guys, Decian. You’re one of us now.”

There was a strange gleam in Joram’s eye, and Chellick smiled uncertainly. A few weeks ago he’d tried to opt out of the OCU, now he was dependent on them. He hoped he would not come to regret this.

 

**2178 CE – January 28 th – Outside Alliance HQ – Arcturus Station – 09:15 AM**

Shepard leaned on the wall with one hand and tried to follow the ship passing under the large reinforced panorama window as far as she could. A dreadnought was always an imposing sight, no matter how often she’d seen the Orizaba arrive with her mother. She wasn’t expected until 10, but it had been a while since she visited the station, and wanted a little walkabout. An unusual sound reach her ear; An uneven and shuffling gait, reminiscent of someone she knew from her childhood. When Shepard turned around, she could see Jeff Moreau approaching, wearing a baseball cap and the largest grin she’d seen in a while.

“Hey, Shepard. Thought it was you. You seem a little.. diminished,” he said and pulled at his own ear.

Shepard grinned back.

“Little Jeffy Moreau. I thought I heard something break.”

“Aaaaww, that’s just cruel. They call me Joker now. How you been?”

“Some good, some bad,” she shrugged. “Life, you know.”

“Hell yes I know,” Jeff said. “Mind if I sit down.”

“Nope, I’ll even sit with you. How’s school? I hear you’re gonna be a bus driver or something?”

“Ooooh, good one. Nope, I’m gonna be the best damn pilot there ever was, or ever will be. Still at the top of my class, and I only have two more years to go.”

“Top of your class? That is impressive.”

“Don’t sound so shocked,” he grimaced. “It’s the bones that are brittle, not my brain.”

“Not both?”

Joker stared at her, still grinning from ear to ear. “You know, I love talking to you. No poor little Jeff, just bam, bam, bam, come at me bro.”

“You’re aiming for the Alliance, yes? You’re gonna be part of some tough shit, but I believe you can do it. Always have. And no, I won’t repeat that. Cough-wuss-cough.”

Both of them started laughing.

“Fair enough. Hey, is that a new shiny medal I see there?”

Shepard looked down and tapped her finger on the little piece of metal over her heart.

“This? Nah, it’s a bull’s eye, so the snipers can kill me more easily.”

“Sure. Your big head isn’t target enough?”

“Awww, low blow, Moreau. Just you wait until the day you’re actually commissioned. I’ll order you around like a little pet.”

“Let’s pray we never end up on the same ship.”

“Let’s.”

They shook hands on it, and continued catching up until Shepard had to leave for her meeting.

 

**2178 CE – January 28 th – Alliance HQ – Arcturus Station – Admiral Hackett’s Office – 10:01 AM**

Inside the large office, the admiral was already flanked by two officers. One was a tall major with a shaved head, the other was David Anderson. The admiral took a small step forward.

“Ah, Shepard, there you are. I know the Alliance has already commentated you, but I wanted to say it myself. Good job on Elysium.” Hackett was in a good mood, and he shook Shepard’s hand with a steel grip.

“Thank you, sir. I had a good team.”

“Good of you to mention them, Shepard. Plenty of praise to go around. Speaking of which, the batarians tried to hit us where it hurts, and you foiled them. Well done. Want to be a part of the team when we strike back?”

“Sir! Hell yes, sir!”

“So eager,” Hackett chuckled. “Remind you of someone, Anderson?”

“It does,” Anderson smiled. “I never expected anything else. Shepard, I want you to meet major Nikolas Kyle. He’s been chosen to lead the attack on the Blue Suns when we find their stronghold and obliterate it. We wondered if you wanted lead one of the squads, but I think we can guess the answer.”

“Yes, sir. It’s about time we drove those slavers out of our territory.”

The major gave a curt nod.

“Then we’re all in agreement. I’ll have your squad detached from general Howitz’ platoon to Arcturus while we wait. Shepard, this is classified. We’re telling you because of your role on Elysium. Ambassador Udina is anxious for another win, and he wants to use you as a propaganda tool. As long as you’re willing, we don’t see a problem.”

“I understand, sir. Not a word before we embark.”

“Good. In the meantime, train hard, fight easy, eh?”

The admiral winked at her, and Shepard became flustered for a fracture of a second, before she remembered herself and saluted.

“Yessir.”

“Excellent. Dismissed.”

 

After she’d left, the admiral turned to major Kyle.

“Perhaps all the secrecy is unnecessary. We already know where the batarians are hold up.”

“Can’t be too safe, sir. As it is, we’re amassing the best teams in this part of the Traverse to deal with that stronghold. Even the name is kept out of the official reports. That’s buried in the mainframe of Arcturus.”

“Let’s hope,” Anderson said as an afterthought, “that’ll be enough.”

 

**2178 CE – February 07 th – Palaven – Despan Vyrnnus’ Shelter – 23:02 PM**

Vyrnnus had scoured the data crystal for names, and he found them. Emerus Victus was currently serving junior officer at Palaven’s planet defense. Celsus Corinthus was a fighter pilot in training under his father’s command. Decian Chellick was a promising C-Sec officer at Zakera ward on the Citadel. The last one of Shepard’s year, Arista Nerva, served as a security guard on Oma Ker. Well, they can’t all succeed, Vyrnnus mused and flipped past her. They were too spread, too distant. How about.. that little team he assigned her?

Vyrnnus searched the names. Garrus Vakarian, C-Sec. Not suitable. Mevia Orestillan, assigned to the Ravuna as recon scout. Maybe. Aius Uticensis, assigned the Ravuna as gunner. Hmm. Strabo Calan, assigned the Ravuna as a sergeant. Well well. Ravarn Sorio, the Ravuna, medic. By the time he punched in the last name, Vyrnnus was grinning. Nirea Tarpeian, combat engineer, the Ravuna. Five little fledglings in one basket. That made things a lot easier. Now for the difficult part, finding Shepard’s current or future deployment. Nothing his contacts could give him was substantial, but the Hierarchy spies told of secret troop reassignments. His own connections told a little more, something big was about to happen, but nobody knew what.

Vyrnnus knew what had to be done. It would be expensive, but he knew he could get backing for his plan if he guaranteed success.

The locked cabinet in the back of the shelter was hidden perfectly, you had to know it was there to find it. He activated the code on his omni-tool and the door clicked open. Among the many trinkets inside, there was a large omni-tool with complex hook-ups to other omni-tools. Vyrnnus opened it and sent a message.

 

“ _Need S.B. files. Request funding for_ _information query._ _Found solution to problem.”_

 

He set the tool down, but the return message appeared after a minute.

 

“ _Granted. Failure not option.”_

 

The threat didn’t faze him. He’d faced people like the employer all the time, though perhaps not as brutal. Threats was a matter of etiquette. Regardless, it would take some days to receive an answer from the Shadow Broker. In the mean time, he had to contact the remnants of Solem’s shattered war bands and convince primarch Fedorian to allow him a small excursion. He opened the omni-tool and called the primarch’s office.

 

**2178 CE – February 10 th  – Citadel – Flux – 20:45 PM**

Chellick sat by the bar staring at his first drink. He’d been watching the bubbles slowly dissolve for an hour, but that hadn’t tempted him to finish it. His mother just called, and told him Marek had contracted an infection in the amputated stump. It was bad enough that his father had lost a leg and the air sacs in the bone, but now this?

In the corner of his eye, he saw Garrus walk in with that instructor he was dating. He barely had the wherewithal to greet them.

Garrus motioned Cinna to get a private table, and she cast a quick glance at Chellick before she was gone in the crowd.

“Hi, Chellick. How’s your father?”

Garrus sat down beside him and ordered two beers.

“Can I get you one? Your drink looks a bit bland.”

“The drink’s fine,” he mumbled. “I’m just not thirsty.”

“That bad, huh.”

“It’s worse. Why’d he do it? That kid from Taetrus. Barely 19, and a terrorist.”

“I don’t know,” Garrus said. “Perhaps he didn’t mean to.”

“He was making a bomb,” Chellick said hotly. “I don’t thing that was accidental.”

“Probably not,” Garrus admitted. “But the separatists are backed by Facinus. I know how easy you can fall for their.. tricks.”

“Facinus? Are you kidding me? They’re as bad as Terra Firma. Anyone would see through that.”

Chellick was surprised when Garrus actually blushed.

“Yeah, well. We all do stupid things. Or people.”

“Garrus, are you saying..?”

“Never mind! It was a long time ago, and I regained my senses before it was too late.”

“Hmm. Okay.”

“Have you told Jane about your dad?”

“Yes. She thinks I should go see him.”

“You should,” Garrus said and took a sip of his beer.

“If we could afford that, I would,” Chellick hissed.

Garrus sat the beer down and observed him.

“The wait list?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s rough. I’m sorry, Chellick. If it’s anything I can do..”

“It’s fine, thanks. I can handle it,” Chellick said.

The last thing he wanted was to borrow more money. Not from Garrus and certainly not Jane. His parents had borrowed from family. He wouldn’t do the same. This was _his_ responsibility, he was an adult, and like a true dutiful son of Palaven, he would help his parents through hard work and discipline. Like a good turian should.

 

**2178 CE – February 11 th – Palaven – Primarch’s Chamber – 09:45 AM**

“That is an interesting proposal, Adviser Vyrnnus,” general Victus said as he studied the maps. “Are you sure? Pirate activity is everywhere. There’s no guarantee they’ll be plotting a kidnapping in that area.”

“I’m positive,” Vyrnnus said solemnly. “This intel was gained through much personal cost to me, and I’d like to oversee the operation myself.”

“Oversee?” the primarch said.

“Strictly in capacity as an observer, of course.”

“Ah. I see no reason why not,” Fedorian said. “Victus, do we have a vessel patrolling that area suitable to such a task?”  
“We have several in that part of the Traverse, primarch,” the general said with a mistrustful glance at Vyrnnus. “All of them more than capable of squashing a minor war band.”

The old fool had undoubtedly heard the rumors about his youthful years, and Vyrnnus had it on good authority that he was called barefaced bastard behind closed doors in the Fleet’s admiralty. One day, those same pompous idiots would get theirs, Vyrnnus thought. In the meantime, politeness was required.

“Well then, since you brought it to our attention, you choose, Vyrnnus.”

“Which vessels are those?” Vyrnnus asked the general.

“The Solregis, the Pyrr and the Ravuna,” Victus read from his list. “Which would you prefer?”

“The Pyrr,” Vyrnnus said quickly.

“Oh, I apologize,” Victus said with a smug grin. “That one is on a special mission from the Fleet. I forgot, I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“Victus,” primarch Fedorian warned. “Vyrnnus, pick another. And this time, it’s final.”

“The general is rich in years, I understand how he could forget,” Vyrnnus said with a mandible flick to Victus. “I’m sure the Ravuna will suffice.”

The general scowled at him, but said nothing. The primarch nodded, satisfied at the two of them not issuing further challenges.

“Outstanding. Then it’s decided. We’ll drive those Eclipse scoundrels out of our border areas before they know we’re there.”

“It will be a glorious moment,” Vyrnnus said with a bow, and retreated back to his quarters.

 

**2178 CE – February 11 th – Vyrnnus’ Shelter – 14:23 PM**

“Quit your whining, Tonn. If I wanted you to list your long list of grievances to the Fleet, I’d ask!”

Vyrnnus rubbed his crest in exasperation. Tonn Actus was usually very dependable, but after his great collection had been seized by the Fleet, he’d become prone to whine and gripe.

“You know what you’re asking, right? The price of the ship, the uniforms, bodies and the crew to handle them? Where’d you get that kind of credits?”

“The fact that the credits could be yours should be more important than were they came from,” Vyrnnus said gruffly. “Can you get it done in time?”

“I’m a specialist,” Tonn huffed. “I can get everything if, IF, you have the credits.”

“The credits are not a problem. Half now, half upon completion.”

The jammer on the table whirred and blinked in unison with its twin on the other side of the room. Encrypted data was well and good, but for these jobs, a personal touch was required. Tonn observed the spinning instruments with a raised brow plate.

“A little paranoid, are we?”

“If you worked where I work, you’d be too.”

“I want my collection back,” Tonn said.

“I’ll see how much I can salvage, but much has been redistributed back to the species they came from.”

Tonn balled his fists and cursed silently.

“Fine! Whatever’s left then.”

“We have a deal. Remember, if you get caught...”

“I never saw you, and I’ll be better off killing myself than revealing who I work for. This isn’t my first job, Vyrnnus.”

“As long as we’re honest with each other.”

“Hahaha, right. Ahem. Half up front?”

Tonn looked at him expectantly, and Vyrnnus transferred money from his private slush fond.

“There.”

“My guys will get the job done, have no worries.”

“Hopefully they will not talk later.”

“Not all of them,” Tonn smiled. “A pleasure doing business with you.”

“Likewise.”

 

**2178 CE – February 13 th – Alliance Cruiser – 06:03 AM**

“Are you finally going to reveal what we’re doing here?”

Argyle lifted his heavy machine gun from the ground and hoisted it on top of his shoulder. Private Samuel Ellin, affectionately known as Samson, checked his rifle and clipped it on his back.

“Yeah, I think we deserve to know. Not that we mind chilling on a space station, but we could be out there kicking ass and taking names.”

“I didn’t know you could read, Samson?”

“Fuck you, Larsen.”

Their resident sniper, Erin Larsen, laughed.

“We’re missing two,” Shepard said. “Where’s my damn recon scout and the engineer?”

“Coming, coming. You’re like a madwoman before an embarkation, know that?”

Kuo came running with two different scopes, one in each hand, and behind him, Gustavo lugged his special pack.”

“Kuo Hu, Gustavo Sosa, at attention!” Shepard barked.

The two men stood at attention.

“You’re three minutes late, and I hope for your sake that wasn’t because you were playing poker, gambling away the meager salary the Alliance pays you,” she continued, “because those credits were mine. I’ve never seen such sorry poker faces in my life.”

The rest of the squad quashed some sporadic giggling.

“Now, finish preparing, the major is about to reveal our destination.”

Kuo and Gustavo shook their heads as the rest of the squad openly laughed at them. After three minutes, a short whistle trill announced they were to stand to attention.

The major marched into the cargo hold, where the majority of the soldiers were assembled. Chosen from their prowess, they were still a small force, no more than 40, and the major’s voice still reached all those in the back of the hold.

“Soldiers! After the attack on Elysium, the Alliance have come to realize that we haven’t been proactive enough. That complacency allowed the Blue Suns to do a blitz assault on our home turf. This time, we’re gonna hit them right where it hurts. Our spies have uncovered their stronghold at a small moon in the contested area of the Traverse. Make no mistake, this will be hard, it will be dangerous, and it will be bloody. At the end of this mission, the name of that moon will be ingrained in the annals of our history as a great success, as the moment in time when the Alliance sent a message to all the lowlifes out there. _Do not fuck with us!_ ”

That caused an enormous cheer among the soldiers, and the major smiled as he waved his hands for quiet.

“Tomorrow, we land on that damned moon, and I expect every man jack in here to be well rested and prepared, no excuses. Tomorrow, we take Torfan!”

Another great cheer reverberated off the metal walls of the cruiser, and Shepard joined in, along with her squad.

 

Somewhere out in the cold darkness of space, Despan Vyrnnus laughed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've been blessed with some extra responsibility at work for no more pay for the rest of the week, and I'll be trying to get ahead with that, that's why I worked my ass off yesterday and today to get you guys a very early chapter. After having read it, I'm guessing you're not thanking me, maahahahahaa!  
> Torfan! It was in the title, people. Should have expected it :D
> 
> So, shall we have a vote? How about a six month hiatus? No? Seven? Yeah, eight. Eight seems about right... XD  
> #Evilauthor


	66. Things fall apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The assault on Torfan begins, but things are not what they seem..

**2178 CE – February 13 th – The Ravuna, Captain’s Quarter – 12:45 PM**

Captain Victus' eyes darted over the security brief on his omni-tool while the emissary from the primarch’s office waited. Supposedly, an attempt at kidnapping some minor turian political figures was to happen in the next 26 hours to 48 hours.

“This all seem rather vague, Vyrnnus” he said to the barefaced male standing before him.

The adviser merely smiled.

“Really? The approximate time, the place and the politically motivation? Hardly vague. But, if you want to take this matter up with His Excellency the primarch...”

“What? No, no, that was not my intention,” Victus said. “It just seems.. a bit odd.”

“Perhaps you have been away from the capitol for too long, captain. I can assure you, the city was in a frenzy after that incident at Titan Academy. Another separatist inserted in the hearts of our institutions. Something must be done, or at the very least, _seem_ to be done.”

Victus flicked a mandible.

“I understand. The primarch must be seen as proactive, or lose support in the senate.”

“Clever male,” Vyrnnus said. “Now, can I be escorted to my quarters?”

“I’ll have it sen to at once. Since this is a ship of war and you’re not currently working for the Fleet or a Cabal, you must be assigned a guard, for your own protection and that of the ship. Is that a problem?”

“Why-ever would I object to that, captain? I am but a humble guest.”

“Hmmm. Right..”

Victus pressed a button.

“Corporal Davinos, would you come in, please.”

“Sir.”

The door opened, and a young turian female marched in. She was in full armor, and had intricate yellow colony marks covering almost every part of her face. Vyrnnus noted the unusually long side horns and elegant waist, and had to force himself to look away. The corporal was a stunner.

“Corporal, you’ve been assigned the protection of the adviser. He’s free to walk around the ship, except the engine core, the armory and the galley.”

Vyrnnus raised a browplate.

“The galley? Really?”

“Difficult cook,” Victus smiled. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to change course.”

“Certainly. Excuse me, I’m feeling a little tired after that long shuttle trip.”

“Follow me, sir,” corporal Davinos said.

Vyrnnus enjoyed the sight of her swaying hips as she led the way.

“So, corporal, have you served the captain long?”

“I just transferred a few days ago, sir. This is my first real assignment,”

“Really? Better keep a good eye on me then. Never know what a stranger might do,” he hummed.

“Sir, I know you’re on a mission for the primarch himself. I’ll try to be as inconspicuous as possible.”

“With your waist? Impossible.”

Vyrnnus wasn’t sure if the corporal was amenable to flirtation, but her quick cough confirmed his hopes.

“What’s your first name, corporal Davinos? Since we’re going to be close, and all, I mean.”

“It’s… it’s Resta. Sir!”

“No need for sir when it’s just us, Resta. And it’s Despan.”

“Sir, I..”

“I understand. You’re the careful type. I like that.”

He wasn’t sure he’d been successful before he’d set his bags down and picked up his personal omni-tool. The hungry look the corporal gave him in that moment convinced him that he might have some company on his cot sooner rather than later. Someone had stocked his room with water and snacks, and he opened a bottle and poured half down his throat. A small bite to eat and a little rest, and he’d go around inspecting the ship before the operation started. If Tonn was late, Vyrnnus would have the Suns flay every dermal plate from his body.

 

**2178 CE – February 13 th – The Ravuna, Vyrnnus’ Quarter – 05:45 AM**

Vyrnnus woke slowly when the buzzer at his door became more persistent. He rolled over and almost fell out of bed. Stumbling up, his movements were a little sluggish before his feet obeyed his commands. He must’ve been more tired than he first believed. Had he slept this entire time?

He opened the slide door, and the young corporal was outside.

“Sir!”

“Dav-.. Resta. What is it?”

Up close, there was something familiar about her face.

“Sir, the captain has requested your presence at the command center. We’re coming up on your coordinates.”

The tiredness vanished in an instant, and Vyrnnus straightened up and readjusted his suit. This was it!

“Lead the way, corporal.”

There was no more time to try and seduce younglings. The mission came first.

 

“Ah, adviser Vyrnnus. We’re nearby the coordinates you provided us. Our position is above the nearby standard shipping lane leading to the relay. There is little to do but wait.”

“I understand,” Vyrnnus said. “Are all channels open?”

“Yes. We’re listening to any emergency hails.”

 

Captain Victus ordered the ship line to be put on screen, and they watched and registered every vessel passing under them. Salarian emissaries, elcor merchants, retrofitted turian cruisers, human cargo transports, krogan mercenary ships, they all flew by without incident. After an hour or so, Victus was pacing slowly around the CIC and reading reports from his omni-tool.

Vyrnnus was reading his own encrypted omni-tool when a message pinged.

_< Unknown sender>: ‘On approach.’_

He closed the mini-screen and looked at the surveillance feed.

An old retrofitted Alliance scout ship were heading to their position alongside a large freighter. When its sensors picked up the Ravuna, it slowed down and veered slightly off its path.

“Captain, we might have something,” a young soldier said.

Victus looked up and spotted the suspicious ship immediately.

“Let’s see what he does. If he tries to slip by, or-..”

“They’re making a run for it!”

The scout ship sped up and swerved around the freighter, making a dash for it.

“Follow!” Victus barked. “Ensign, what class of ship is that? Does it have faster than light travel?”

“In pursuit, sir. Looks like she’s damaged. First generation reconnaissance ship. I don’t believe she’s capable of FTL in her condition.”

“You’ll believe in the temple, ensign. Hail her.”

“Yes, sir!”

 

“Scout ship, respond! This is captain Varo Victus. Identify yourself!”

A hoarse guttural laughter rang in the loudspeakers, and a blurred vid-feed appeared on the large screen. A dirty human male clad in a tattered old alliance uniform appeared, and in the back, several turians on the floor, bound and leaned up against a wall. Most of them looked like they were unconscious.

“A turian patrol? Go fuck yourself, damn mutt. These folks are ours.”

“Human pirates in an Alliance ship,” Victus spat. “Cease your flight, or I’ll open fire.”

“Oh, you don’t wanna do that, captain Mutt, not unless you wanna see your countrymen die in a fire.”

“How many hostages?”

“Plenty of ‘em,” the voice laughed. The feed went out, but there was some rustling, and a female turian voice cried out in the background when a small thin garbled voice cried for her mother.

“Say something, kid.”

The little voice continued to whimper, and then the sound of a hard slap.

“Ooouuuuhh. I want my mhooommy...”

“Heard enough, capitano? Get out of our way, or suffer the consequences.”

“Animals!” Victus hissed. “Cut the feed.”

 

Vyrnnus studied his talons. “I’d say my sources were correct.”

“Yes, but now those pirates have hostages. How are we going to rescue them without killing everyone?”

“Cripple them and force them down on a small planet,” Vyrnnus said.

Victus thought about it for a second.

“Maybe. We’ll have to take action either way, can’t let them escape, but I’d rather not kill the prisoners.”

“They probably won’t kill them unless we try to boarding them in space. Force them down and send in some special teams to take out the hostage takers before they’ve recovered from the crash.”

“Could work. It’s an old tactic, but still useful. Ensign, what’s the nearest uninhabited planet?”

“There’s a small mining planet an hour or so away. Torfan. It’s been abandoned for years.”

“Good. Force them to change course. When we’re near enough, we’ll cripple their engine further so they have no choice but to enter its atmosphere.”

“Yes, sir.”

Victus turned to Vyrnnus.

“Let’s hope your plan works.”

Vyrnnus hid a smile.

“Oh, I have no doubt it will.”

 

**2178 CE – February 14 th – Above Torfan – 08:34 AM**

“You guys ready?”

Shepard checked Kuo’s weapon straps and yanked a loose end.

“If I see you fire up that dreadful pop music on your earpiece, you’ll be in trouble.”

“Yes, Shepard,” came Kuo’s response, a little too fast for her liking.

“Our team will be securing the garage. That means blast open the doors, stop any vehicles from escaping, and basically eradicate any forms of life in that hall. Understood?”

Gustavo raised his hand.

“Uhm, does that mean we’ll be going on a driving mission?”

“If we can’t stop them, we might have to,” Shepard said. “Why?”

“They want to ask if you’ve taken more driving lessons since last time,” Argyle whispered from the corner of his mouth.

“Ahaha, funny, guys. The next one who has anything to say on my fantastic driving skills, rides in the back.”

Her squad said nothing, but exchanged worried glances.

“I saw that! Now listen up. A shuttle will take us in, while the cruiser draws away fire from the ground batteries. The mines lead into large tunnels underground, some of which are reinforced and others are not. We’ll either kill them on the surface or force them underground and blow the entrances. No need to engage in combat when we can kill them in a blast. Questions?”

“We’re only taking the hangar?” Argyle said and pointed at the map

“We’re to secure the area and hold it. If the other teams run into trouble, we’ll divide and assist. First priority is still to prevent any Suns escaping the compound.

“We can do that,” Gustavo said. “No problem.”

“That’s what I told the major. Get inside the shuttle. It’s our turn. Team Bravo and Charlie are already deployed.”

“Delta for the win,” Samson grinned and gave Erin a high five.”

“Get in the shuttle, now!” Shepard barked. “We’re going to be late for the party.”

 

**2178 CE – February 14 th – Torfan – Blue Suns Hideout – 08:55 AM**

Despite the barrage of incoming fire from the top bunker, Shepard led her team quickly around the outer wall in search of an entrance. She’d expected more Suns, but they were probably hunkered down inside the lower structures. It would be a nightmare to try and clean every level one by one, but if that’s what major Kyle ordered, then that would be done. The first mission target was for team Bravo to gain entrance to the bunker, and for Delta to secure the hangar, possibly blowing it up with every ship inside. Charlie was fire support and snipers. Both Bravo and Charlie were larger than her Delta, but Shepard had no doubt her team would do their task methodically and efficiently, despite their lack in numbers.

“Larsen, do you see their spotter at the top?”

“Got him,” Erin replied. “Wait for it...”

One muffled shot later and the batarian fell flailing from the roof.

“Good. Onward.”

“There’s the hangar,” Argyle said. “I thought there would be more guards.

“Can’t expect pirates to have military discipline,” Samson said. “Move, I got this.”

He unfurled the tripod behind a crumbling stone wall while Shepard and Argyle gave covering fire. The batarian guards returned fire and lobbed grenades. Shepard managed to reverse the trajectory for two of them with a biotic throw and they landed back among the defenders. Erin sniped one standing on the apex of the scaffold surrounding the hangar surface. Meanwhile, Samson had readjusted the heatsinks and slammed the lid shut.

“Here we go,” he shouted and opened fire.

 

The batarians were almost sawed in half as the deafening heavy caliber machine gun spat round after round, projectiles punching through even the toughest armor and leaving large exit holes on their way out. Shepard peeked over the wall with a biotic barrier in front of her. Samson’s handiwork was coloring the wall green and gray from blood and innards, making short work of the handful of batarians still standing after the grenades. When one of them tried to escape, she grabbed him with a biotic hold and threw him back into Samson’s line of fire. His shouting was cut short by a burst of rapid fire.

When the screams died down, the gunner ceased firing.

“That was.. thorough,” Kuo said.

“Better them than us,” Samson shrugged. “Let’s take the hangar.”

They passed an old mining laser on their way, and Shepard examined it with a cursory glance. It appeared to be intact. She led them inside, protecting the advancement with a barrier when they slipped into the large hangar. To their surprise it was practically empty. Three damaged gunships and six or seven sand buggies were all that remained. Around the vast hall were heaps of scraps and spare parts, like the pilots and crew left in a hurry.

Shepard keyed up her omni-tool.

“Major, we’ve secured the hangar. Looks like it’s been abandoned.”

She waited for a reply, and 15 seconds later, the major answered.

“Kyle here. We’ve encountered less resistance than we expected, but I have no doubt a large faction are hiding inside the tunnels. We’re almost through. As soon as we get this bunker open, I want you to-..”

Suddenly, Argyle slammed Shepard against the wall and pulled her down.

A salvo of rifle shots echoed in the hall, along with the sound of a buggy rearing to life.

“Shepard? Come in, Shepard!”

“Sir, we have a runaway. Taking up pursuit. Leaving three to defend the hangar.”

“Roger that, Shepard. Good luck.”

Shepard pointed to Erin. “Larsen, you’re in charge. Samson, and Kuo, back her up. Get high and defend this place.”

Spinning around, she found Gustavo. “Find a buggy that works!”

“Yes sir!”

“Argyle, you’re with me. Come on.”

Gustavo’s attempt to start the third buggy worked, and Shepard jumped in the driver’s seat. She ignored the eye rolls and both of them climbed in without saying a word.

“Guns ready,” she ordered. “We’re following the tracks.”

 

The buggy’s engine whined in protest as Shepard forced it to go full speed up a sandy hill. Argyle hung on for dear life, and Gustavo hurled over the door frame, but Shepard pressed the throttle all the way down and the small vehicle sped up and cast up a trail of sand behind it. The escapees didn’t drive as fast as she did, and they were gaining on them with every turn.

“Almost there, guys. Argyle, see if you can hit them.”

“Gotcha.”

He lined the rifle up between the wind shield and the frame and opened fire. Shepard tried to keep the buggy steady, but the road was uneven and full of pot holes, making the buggy jump and swerve.

The fleeing batarians started firing back, and she drew her own pistol and started firing and driving one-handed. Gustavo stood up in the backseat and steadied his rifle on the roof, joining in in the scattered fire.

Finally, one of them managed to hit the energy pack and the buggy in front exploded, the force of the blast making it flip over and land upside down. Shepard hit the brakes hard and their buggy spun around in the sand, stopping after having done a complete 180 fishtail.

Argyle jumped out with his rifle aimed.

“Don’t fucking move, asshole! Don’t move,” he shouted to a batarian splayed in the sand.

The pirate’s arm was a bloody mess of bone and splinters, and a steel bar protruded from his abdomen.

“Should we kill him,” Gustavo asked.

Shepard bent down and stared at the merc.

“Where are the others? Where?!”

The batarian gurgled and spat blood, but they all heard the laugh.

“No...where… ass..hole..”

“Tell me,” Shepard said and took a hold around the rod in the batarians stomach.

Gustavo looked queasy. “God, Shepard, that’s..”

“Tell me!” she repeated and twisted the bar.

“Fhhuck… yhoouuuu..”

The batarian coughed up more blood, and went still. Shepard pulled her gun and shot him between the eyes.

Gustavo flinched. “What was that for?”

“Just in case. Let’s get back to Delta.”

Above them there was a roar in the air, and a damaged Alliance vessel spun dangerously around in the skies. A second smaller shuttle followed in hot pursuit.

“What the fuck is this?” Argyle wiped a thin layer of road dust from his helmet.

“I have no idea.” Shepard said. “It looks like one of ours, but an older model. It’s being followed by turians.”

“Should we hail it?” Gustavo asked.

“And do what, shoot on of them down with our rifles?” Argyle scoffed.

“I dunno, something.”

Somewhere above the main base camp, there were several big light flashes. Shepard and her team watched in muted horror as three missiles left trails of smoke behind before honing in on the airborne ships. The Alliance scout ship took two missiles to the bow. The entire front part broke from the rest of the fuselage and split the ship in two. After a massive explosion, the two halves fell from the sky, one in a hail of fire and the other in a spinning eddy of smoke. The last missile hit the turian shuttle-craft's side door and blew the entire right side out. Shepard could see burning turians being thrown out by the impact and plunge to the ground.

“Shepard, did you see that?” The major was back on the comms.

“Yeah, but who fired? Was that us?”

“No, it wasn’t. Must’ve been stragglers. Get to those ships and check for survivors, see what that was all about. We’re through the first plate, and nearly through the second. Make a quick survey and come back.”

“Roger that, sir.”

 

Shepard hopped inside the buggy and forced the small vehicle to traverse a small cliff.

“Do you think anyone survived,” Argyle said.

“I doubt it,” Shepard said with gritted teeth. “That second shuttle disturbs me. It looks like Fleet issue. If they believe we’re to blame for shooting down one of their ships..”

“We have witnesses, it wasn’t us.”

“Alliance witnesses,” Shepard said and sped up.

 

* * *

 

Six minutes later they were at the first crash sight. The scout ship’s fuselage was scattered with burning bodies, some human, most turians. One turian had fallen out of the falling ship and landed on the sand, but the rest were baking in the fires. The smell of burnt meat and scorched plates were sickening. Shepard stared at the glassy congealed eyes of the turian in the sand. The impact had broken his body into several pieces, but he still had shackles around his arms. There was something unnerving about that stare, and Shepard had a niggling feeling in the back of her head that she should’ve remembered something. She shook her head. The one thing she did note, however, was that the turians were not in any type of military suit, armor or carried any weapons, which meant civilians, in so far turians had that sort of thing. On the human she saw some Alliance patches, but it all disappeared in the flames.

“No survivors at the first ship, major. I won’t be checking the cockpit, it’s burrowed deep into the ground. It’s bad, sir, looks like one of ours with numerous turians on board.”

“Roger that, Shepard.”

 

* * *

 

8 minutes later, they stood beside the blazing wreck of the shuttle. Shepard’s worst fears were confirmed when she saw the turian insignia emblazoned on the charred fuselage. None of the turian soldiers had survived.

“Major Kyle, we’re at the last sight. The shuttle is Hierarchy, which means there’s probably a cruiser up there. We need to contact them, right now to avoid any misunderstandings.”

“All right, Shepard, you try to hail them and-… SHIT! GETH! GETH!”

“Sir? Sir?”

“The bunk…. Not bata…. Full… geth! Unde….tack!”

The comms signal flickered and vanished.

“Spirits,” Argyle said. “What do we do? Shepard?”

Shepard stared from the downed shuttle to the compound in the distance, and her mind raced. A warning flashed in her head. A misapprehension with the Hierarchy could cost them a lot more than any of them knew, but her team was under geth attack. The major _had_ said to contact the Hierarchy. He never countermanded it.

“Gustavo, can you set up a transmitter? We need to contact whichever ship this shuttle belongs to.”

“But, our team?” Gustavo protested.

“The faster we contact any ships out there, the faster we can return to the fight. We’re heading for the high spot above the camp.”

“Where they fired the missiles,” Argyle said.

“Yes.”

“That might be high enough to get away from the geth jammers, Gustavo said as they started running back to the buggy.

“If it is the geth,” Shepard mumbled as she floored the pedal, but only Argyle heard her.

 

* * *

 

**15 minutes later**

“Hurry, hurry,” Shepard called and pushed faster to the top.

From the camp below, Shepard could hear shouting and shooting. She hoped she’d done the right thing. By leaving her comrades to fend for themselves, she was taking a huge risk, but risking a war with the turians would be far worse.

“Set it up,” she ordered and knelt down beside the transmitter.

Gustavo set the legs down, hooked up the last wires and opened the small dish.

“There.”

Shepard connected her omni-tool with the transmitter and opened a channel.

“Hailing all Hierarchy ships over Torfan, over.”

There was no reply.

Shepard tried again, this time in Palaveni Standard.

“ _Calling any_ _Hierarchy_ _ships over Torfan. This is Alliance lieutenant Shepard, part of strike force of the Seventh Fleet. We did not fire on your shuttle. Request acknowledgment_ _upon receiving this message_ _, over.”_

“Goddamn, we’re standing here for no reason!” Argyle snapped. “Our friends need us.”

“Argyle, if the turians think we’re attacking them, we’ll be at war by nightfall.”

She turned to Gustavo.

“Why aren’t the signal getting through?”

“I don’t know,” he said desperately. “This should be high enough, unless this whole camp is littered with jammers.”

Shepard felt a cold shill flood down her spine. The poorly defended mining camp, the empty hangar, the geth, the burning shuttles, and now this. It was like a great conspiracy.”

Below them, more screams and sounds of geth. Over the horizon, the three members of Delta saw an incoming shuttle with side mounted machine guns, heading right for major Kyle’s position. Shepard lifted the omni-tool again and shouted.

“ _Hierarchy shuttle, do you read me? This is lieutenant Shepard of the Alliance, we are not your enemy. Do not fire! Repeat, do not fire! We will not attack you!”_

There was a soft thwack.

Shepard jerked back as Argyle’s helmet blew apart and showered her with a thick pink mist of blood and brain matter. Behind his shattered visor she could see the light shining through his remaining eye, the back of his head completely gone. His body keeled over in slow motion, and only Gustavo’s quick reaction dragged her down before the second shot flew over their heads.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Gustavo said, over and over again as they crawled behind a rock formation.

Shepard could hardly hear him. She stared at the gray and red matter on her armor, trying frantically to wipe away the bits of flesh from her helmet that had been her friend, and felt a surge of rage as she’d never felt before. Those bastards! They’d killed her friend! Those _bastards!_ _Did they know who they were fucking with?_

“Come,” she ordered and began running down the trail.

The tone of her voice whipped him out of his pleas to god, and he ran after her.

“They want a fight? I’ll give them a fight,” she swore between gritted teeth. “Them and the geth. _Fuck them all!”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week, another long slog of overtime, and with that, another very early chapter. I won't have time to write this week, so I worked my ass of in the weekend :D
> 
> Torfan has claimed its first familiar victim, but who else will perish in this conflict? Next week will tell..


	67. Killing fields

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard makes some life changing decisions, and in another part of the galaxy, Saren is engaging in another kind of fight.

 Shepard and Gustavo rushed back to the mining camp with Shepard trailblazing in front, blasting everything getting in her way. The geth swarmed across the rocks, a clear indicator that the major was in full retreat. Geth of every size flooded out of the bunker faster than his teams could kill them, and here was the results. She cast one glance over her shoulder to see the shuttle hovering over the fight and firing willy-nilly at everyone down there.

“Damn, they’re gonna get killed!” Gustavo called.

“We need to take that gunship out,” Shepard growled. “I have an idea.”

She pushed forward and fired her shotgun straight in a geth prime’s eye lens, making its head disappear. She shuddered and forced the image of Argyle away.

“They’re in a pincer,” Gustavo said, verging on desperation. “We can’t break through both fronts, and I can see some turian infantry.”

“We don’t need to,” Shepard said and turned away from the courtyard and ran back to the hangar.

“Hey? Hey! Lieutenant, are you running away? Shepard!”

“Private, haul ass! We’re gonna take down that flier.”

 

She skidded to a halt in front of the large mining laser. The handles and the hinges were covered in a thin layer of rust, but the mechanism itself looked to be undisturbed.

“This thing?” Gustavo wheezed. “We don’t know if it works.”

“We’ll know soon enough. “Get me power, I’ll help the lift shake loose.”

“Yes, sir!”

He disappeared inside the hangar, and after some swearing and electrical blinks, the panels on the lift blinked alive. Shepard hopped on and pulled the lever for up. The metal groaned and twanged from the unaccustomed strain, but she used her biotic powers to help the rise .

“Oh gods, I saw one of ours get shot,” Gustavo yelled up to her.

“We’re putting a stop to that right now,” Shepard snarled and started the mining program. She had no idea what was the normal power output on these things, but figured the thing might very well crumble from the first shot, and decided to go all out. Maxing out the laser intensity, she began readjusting the machine and aiming it towards the shuttle. The flier was holding steady to better fire at both the geth and the Charlie and Bravo teams, which made her job a lot easier.

“Here goes,” she shouted and activated the laser.

At first, nothing happened. Then a sound of whirring cogwheels were heard inside, and the front lid fell back. The entire contraption started to rumble and shake, and only her determination to keep the laser steady made Shepard cling on to the top.

“It’s powering up,” Gustavo explained .

“Let’s hope it works fast, before they spot us!”

The internal machinery began to work smoother, and the whirr was replaced with a high pitched metallic whine.

Gustavo crossed himself. “That’s the laser beam getting ready!”

“Bye, murderers,” Shepard spat.

A large beam shot from the laser and struck the shuttle in the front, effectively cutting the cockpit in half. The shuttle began to spin and dropped uncontrollably from the air, swiping several turian soldiers under it before smashing onto the bedrock. With the odds slightly shifted , the few Alliance soldiers left had begun to fire back at both turians and geth.

“Fuck yeah, take that!” Gustavo shouted and threw his fist in the air.

The laser began to shudder, rocking from from side to side.

“It’s getting erratic.”

Shepard tried to steady the mining instrument, to little avail. It continued to spit laser beams, now shorter and unwieldy bursts across the field. Two geth were sliced apart, one turian soldier got his torso separated from his waist, and that was everything Shepard managed to catch a glimpse of before she had to force the laser from tearing from its hinges.

“I think we should leave!” he called up to her. “We’ve probably overloaded the system, and that thing sounds worse by the second.”

“I agree,” she called back. “ Pull the plug.”

He disappeared inside the hanger and did something, because the mining laser immediately lost power.

“That’s that damn shuttle, now let’s get to the major.”

 

They cleared a path from their position towards the rest of Bravo and Charlie, both teams now clearing the field of geth. Shepard recognized the mutilated body of Kuo, chest split open with tremendous force. Beside him was Erin, killed by several projectiles. No sight of Samson. Scattered all over the field were the dead bodies of their former comrades and the bleeping and sparkling geth they had pulled with them in death.  
“Ay dios mio,” Gustavo whispered.

“Need to continue,” Shepard said. “We still have friends out there.”

Staying low, they crept and crouched over dead bodies to get to the major’s position. By accident, Gustavo rolled straight on to a corpse with grenade damage, and got stuck. Trying to get away, he pulled out some raw stinking intestines. Having already thrown up in the buggy, now he was heaving bile.

The geth were now shooting at the approaching turians as well, and they in turn were shooting at both humans and geth, and vice versa. It was a bloodbath.

Her biotic shield shattered when a sniper shot struck it as she jumped behind cover.

“Where’s the major,” she barked at the nearest soldier.

Blood streamed from a gash in his forehead, and he pointed silently to a figure hunched over a dead private. Shepard made her way over there.

“Major, lieutenant Shepard reporting, sir. We took down the flier with the old mining laser. Situation here, sir?”

“That was you?” a sergeant from Bravo asked. “Fuck, we thought that was the geth doing us a favor.”

“They’re doing us a favor now, keeping the turians occupied. Sir, orders?”

“They’re dead,” he whispered. “They’re all dead.”

“Sir?”

“He’s been like that since Long got killed,” the sergeant said. “We just… improvised.”

“Right.” She turned around. “How many of us are left?”

“I think Bravo has 7 or eight men, they’re hunkered down over by the containers, Charlie has 9 left, and I’ve only seen you two from Delta.”

“We’ve lost more than twenty men” Shepard said and knelt down beside him. “We need to wait until the field is more thinned, let the turians struggle with the geth and then push them back.”

“Can’t we connect with our cruiser?”

“All signals from this area is jammed. We don’t know what causes it, but we’re not getting through. I even tried hailing the turians, but they’re either not receiving or not receptive.”

“The turians,” major Kyle said. “We need to make peace with them.” He rose from his kneeling position, and only Gustavo’s tackle kept him from getting a hole in his chest.

“I don’t think so,” Shepard said. “Sir, this is standard turian military tactic, remember? They use Hastatims to eradicate everything in a war zone, and as far as I know, they’ve not established any free zones for us to escape to. We either fight, or we die.”

Major Kyle began breathing faster, trying to get away from Gustavo. “We’ll die! Like them! We’ll all die!”

Shepard saw the effect the major’s words had on the rest of Team Charlie. They were about to panic.

“Sir, calm down. We’ll devise a strategy for-..”

“DIE! DIE! DIE!” he shouted, spittle dripping from his mouth.

The soldiers were arching away, and Shepard made a split second decision. Taking a quick step forward, she knocked the major in the back of the head with the butt of her rifle. He dropped right where he stood. In the makeshift trench, the soldiers all stared at her. She’d just committed mutiny.

“Listen up,” she barked. “I’ve just relieved major Kyle from command. In his state he was unfit and a danger to us all. We’ll have to fight for our lives, boys, because when the turians have wiped out the last remaining geth, they’re coming for us, and for blood.”

The young sergeant was the first to acknowledge her.

“Lieutenant, sir. How are we going to do that?”

“We have nothing,” Shepard said. “Not the advantage, not the element of surprise, not greater numbers, but we’re the fucking Alliance! No bird is going to defeat us as long as I breathe!”

“Yeah, go Shepard!” a private covered in blood shouted from the back.

“The only thing we have is our guts and our grit. I’ll head the charge, and we’ll punch through their lines.”

“That’s suicide,” another private said.

“No, sitting here is suicide. We’ll be overrun or ‘grenaded’ out of here as soon as they’re done with the geth. We can’t go down the tunnels, they’re unstable and easy to blow up, and there might be more geth or booby traps. We need to attack head on.”

“Die on our knees, or die fighting,” the sergeant said. “I’m for the latter. I’m with you, lieutenant.”

A murmur of voices spread, some dissenting, but more assenting.

“They only have those large Primes left. I say we go now, not giving them a moment’s rest!”

“Yeah!”

“Do or die!”

“Now’s a good a time as any!”

“Wow, some slogan.”

“Kill the turians!”

“Kill the birds!”

“Kill the birds!”

“Kill the birds!”

“Kill the birds!”

“Kill the birds!”

They all chanted the same battle cry, even Shepard. Argyle would be avenged!

 

**2178 CE – February 13 th – The Ravuna – CIC – 10:02 AM**

“We lost contact with the second shuttle once it entered the atmosphere,” the ensign informed captain Victus. “Our sensors can’t get an accurate reading down there, it has either landed or its gone. The rest of our teams are equally incommunicado.”

“Curses! What’s going on down there? That’s the second shuttle lost. ”

“It’s obvious what’s going on, our people are under attack,” Vyrnnus said. “We’re obliged to assist.”

“But who? Scanners says numerous life forms, but no ships.”

“Captain, Alliance cruiser approaching!”

“On comms!”

 

_“This is captain Drew Lawrence of the SSV Intrepid. Cease and desist your attacks on our people, or we will open fire.”_

“Your people? This is captain Varo Victus, and you’re attacking MY people down there!”

_“Our gun ports are already open, captain. If you attempt to arm yours, we’ll open fire!”_

“They won’t breach our hull with the first salvo,” Vyrnnus said. “We can take them.”

“And start a war in the process,” Victus hissed back.

“Captain Lawrence, is it your intention to hold us hostage here? If so, how long?”

_“Until I can verify what happened to our people on the surface,”_ captain Lawrence snapped. _“And if I find that you’re responsible for anything might have befallen them, it will be your last day in the galaxy.”_

Victus said nothing for a while, and Vyrnnus studied him intently. He couldn’t risk pushing too hard , but he hoped the old warrior lineage of the Victus clan would win out. It did not.

“Lieutenant Faro, send an emergency dispatch to the primarch. Priority Alpha. If I’m to start a war, I’d like to have his backing.”

“Aye, sir.”

“You fool,” Vyrnnus hissed. “Our people are dying down there.”

“We don’t know that yet, and the humans don’t seem to know either.”

“This is a hostile act against the Hierarchy!”

“Which will be answered in kind if I get confirmation from the primarch.”

Vyrnnus growled, but sat back. Primarch Fedorian was a war hawk, and he’d never forgotten the humiliating defeat his beloved Fleet suffered on Earth. He would not give the humans another chance.

Neither the captain nor the adviser noticed a young female corporal slip away with a determined look.

 

**2178 CE – February 13 th – Torfan – 10:05 AM**

“Chaaaaarge!”

Shepard ran forward, projecting the largest shield she could muster and fired her gun on the move.

The geth had forced the turians into an orderly retreat to the nearest rock basins to regroup, and their concentrated fire was now taking down the last Prime.

They managed to cross half the field before the turian soldiers became aware of the oncoming assault and turned their rifles to stem the tide.

Around her, she heard screams and cries when her comrades fell under the onslaught, and pained screeches from the turian side whenever they managed to take one down. The turian lines were much thinned out by the geth, but still put up a formidable fight. Bravo and Charlie were mercilessly culled by methodical fire, but Shepard’s shield protected the middle as they pushed through the barrage. Blood streamed out of both nostrils from the strain, but Shepard didn’t feel a thing besides rage. When they reached the turian positions, she dropped the shield and threw a biotic charge in the middle of the remaining turians, throwing the last ones into complete disarray. What remained of Bravo, Charlie and Delta was now into single digits, but they had a biotic on their side, the turians did not. Shepard slammed, reaved and blasted her way through the enemy line, leaving a trail of dying turians in her wake, and the soldiers who followed her became mired in vicious hand to hand combat with the turian survivors.

When they saw their numbers reduced to almost nothing, a small gang of turian solders fled down the ravine, pulling some wounded between them.

“So much for never seeing a turian’s back when they’re alive,” the young sergeant bellowed after them. What do we do, lieutenant?”

“We pursue and destroy,” Shepard said. “How many are-..” She stopped herself.

Upon turning around, she saw that a mere seven soldiers were still standing. Her first big command, and she’d lost more than half her soldiers. Gustavo was among them, but he was injured in the leg.

“Gustavo, take one more with you and start looking for survivors. Us five will follow the turians.”

“Yes, sir.” Gustavo looked pale.

“Take the med kits from the dead if you need to.”

“Sir?”

“If it’s a matter of life and death, I’ll choose life. Now go!”

“Sir!”

She turned back to the remaining five.

“Let’s hunt some turians!”

 

**2178 CE – February 13 th – Palaven Palace – 10:43 AM**

Saren pushed his way past the palace guards with a look that would’ve killed them where they stood, if such a thing were possible.

The message from Arista had reached him twenty minutes ago, and no doubt the primarch were already informed and ordering his generals to war.

“Arterius, sir, you can’t come in here,” the old chamberlain barked. “The primarch has summoned an emergency meeting.”

Saren had no hard feelings toward the male, but the old turian was now in his way.

“Spectre business,” he replied. “You’ve got five seconds to move.”

“But..”

“One.”

“His Excellency said..”

“Two.”

“I’ll.. I’ll open the gate.”

“Wise man.”

He didn’t bother with a soft entrance, but slammed both of the dual gates open and marched in with an air of command.

“Everybody who’s not the primarch, OUT!”

The primarch slowly rose to his feet.

“Arterius, how dare you. This is not the Citadel, I don’t need its favorite pet and you are _not_ the primarch.”

“Neither will you be for long, unless we have a chat.”

“Threats to the primarch’s life,” a guardsman shouted. “Seize the Spectre!”

Saren flared his mandibles and stood deceptively still. Primarch Fedorian’s eyes darted between the naive guards and the experienced former Blackwatch operative. Something was amiss here. He was never this blatantly disrespectful.

“Stop,” he said. “Everybody out.”

“But sir, the Spectre has made threats...”

“Has he? We’ll see. If he displeases me, you can deal with him later.”

The assembly of generals and military consultants proceed to leave the hall, glaring at Saren as they walked out. He couldn’t give less of a fuck about that.

“Well?” Fedorian demanded. “Out with it! We’re about to declare war on the humans.”

“What for?” Saren said with infuriating calm.

“What for? What for?! The savages are attacking us, holding one of my ship hostage. Commander Vyrnnus’ ship, no less.”

“Ah, the _esteemed_ commander,” Saren said with a sarcastic smile. “How is the old Spectre dropout? Still giving bad orders?”

“I have no time for games, Arterius. Say your piece and begone!”

“Very well then. You’ve just received intel about an attack on the crew of the Ravuna by Alliance forces.”

“I should pay you for being a good messenger boy, except you’re late.” Fedorian flicked his mandibles irritably.

“It so happens, I have some intel of my own, regarding a certain member of your Excellency's close advisers.”

“Would this be Despan,” Fedorian scoffed. “He already told me how you two butted crests in the academy. Pettiness does not suit you.”

“Despan, dear me, forgive my impertinence. I never knew you were this close.”

Fedorian growled, but Saren merely smiled.

“For years now, I’ve been keeping a close watch on certain undesirables close to the primarch’s office. I’ve assigned a Blackwatch operative to watch and track a certain… adviser for, shall we say, quite a long time.”

“Get to the point,” Fedorian said uneasily.

“It would seem our friend Despan never cut ties with the Blue Suns. Surely it didn’t escape the people doing your vetting for you?”

“I.. He came highly recommended,” Fedorian said. “Councilor Sparatus vouched for him."

“That’s interesting,” Saren said. “Meanwhile, I have here,” he held out a datapad for the primarch, “A long trail of evidence leaving me to suspect that Despan Vyrnnus is part of a greater conspiracy. The group behind it is still concealed, but with his latest effort, provoking a skirmish, perhaps even an all out war with the humans is going to leave him wide open for questioning. The _not-so-gentle_ kind.”

Fedorian swiped through the reports and the surveillance transcripts. Years of government service had made him a phenomenal speed reader. His mandibles clamped and unclamped to his face as he read further along. Finally, he tossed the datapad on the desk.

“The evidence, while damning, is not substantiate enough to demand an immediate dismissal. We’ll discuss this when I’ve liberated the Ravuna. Those humans will learn not to cross me again, no matter what or who brought this about!”

Saren sighed.

“I thought we might hit that little snag.”

“Snag? There is no snag, only the mighty Fleet. We outgun and outmatch the Alliance almost two to one.”

“True. IF.. you only count the humans.”

Fedorian stopped.

“What do you mean, only count humans? Do you think any of the council races will provide aid? The elcor? The volus? The vorcha? Hah! Never!”

“The krogan,” Saren said calmly.

The primarch’s eyes bulged.

“The krogan? What about the krogan?”

Saren crossed his arms and sat down on the primarch’s desk.

“If you’ve bothered to read the reports your people send you from around the galaxy, a great number of krogan is returning to their Homeworld. Turian spies have difficulties finding a foothold on Tuchanka, but reports indicate that one of the old clans, the Urdnots, are at the center of a krogan revival movement.”

“Revival? They should all be dead,” Fedorian hissed.

“And yet, they are not. You know what the Council said about the relay incident, that countless krogan mercenaries were offering their services to the Alliance to aid in a war against the seat of Palaven?”

Fedorian scowled. “I heard.”

“Do you think anything has changed? We would be facing the humans and possibly, the new surging krogan unity. That would shift the odds to more equal standing, would it not?”

The Spectre watched the primarch, wondering how much more he had to reveal before the stubborn male would relent. A war at this point would be disastrous to both sides, their carcasses to be picked clean by the hidden scavengers.

Fedorian shook his head.

“What do you want from me?”

Saren imperceptibly breathed a sigh of relief.

“Tell your ship to wait. The humans aren’t firing at them, and the connection with the surface of Torfan is gone.”

“You’re asking a lot. My honor as a warrior..”

“Will not be diminished by uncovering the truth before firing the first shot.”

Fedorian mulled this over.

“Very well. We shall wait and discover the truth about Torfan, but if the humans attacked us unprovoked, not even a billion krogan will save them from my wrath.”

“That should be an interesting fight,” Saren said sarcastically. “Make the call. _Sir_ ...”

 

**2178 CE – February 13 th – Torfan – 10:55 AM**

Shepard and the remains of Bravo and Charlie continued the running pursuit of the fleeing turians. Judging from the footprints, she guessed their numbers to be about ten or twelve, but the blue wet trail gave away the fact that they had many injured. The anger still burned inside her, like a small flame waiting to be fanned. Up ahead under a small overhang she saw two turians laying completely still. They’d been left by their comrades, and even from this distance, she could she the large gash in the armor of the largest. Laser struck. One of her hits, she thought with some satisfaction. She closed the distance with her weapon drawn, but detected no signs of life. Better to be on the safe side, she figured and raised the gun to the first turian’s helmet-less head.

Then she saw the markings. The face. The familiar mandibles. _Strabo._ His now empty eyes stared at the turian laying next to him. As if in a haze, Shepard bent down and unclasped its helmet. Nirea’s blank eyes stared up at nothing. Her hand, one talon severed, had left a trail of blood where her touch had slid of Strabo’s face in death. Their last moments together, here, under a hostile alien sky.

Shepard awoke from the shock, tears streaming down her face, fogging her visor. It was the Ravuna! _She’d been killing her own friends!_ Was there anyone left? Were they among the fleeing?

Backing away from the corpses, she almost tripped getting away from them.

“Lieutenant? What’s wrong? Are they still alive?”

The sergeant raised his rifle, but Shepard was there in a heartbeat, placing herself between the humans and the dead turians.

“Fire, and it’s the last thing you do!”

He froze and backed away. “What’s your problem. They’re just birds, you said so yourself.”

She blinked repeatedly to get the tears away from her eyes and aired the helmet to remove the fog.

“Never you mind. I have my reasons. Go back. I’ll go on alone.”

“What? No!”

There was a chorus of protests, but her moment of weakness had passed.

“I am in command here. I said go back! Help with the survivors, if there are any.”

“I remember how you got in charge,” the sergeant said. “Seems like you’re unfit now.”

Shepard snatched him in a biotic hold and slammed him against the rocks, not hard enough to kill, but hard enough to get her point across.

“Go back, soldier. I can handle this.”

One of the corporals stepped forward.“Hey, hey, we get it, you’re going alone. Fine.”

“Good. Find Gustavo, try to find what’s jamming this entire place and call our ship. If the Ra-… If the turians send another shuttle, we’re dead.”

That made sense, at least in her ears.

“Right. The damn birds are everywhere. We’ll get on that. Be careful.”

“See you later, corporal. Good luck.”

 

Having left the rest of the soldiers in as safe a position as she possibly could without her presence, she ran further into the ravine, flaring a biotic shield. The metallic taste of blood from the nosebleed was ignored, and she continued the dash until she came to a cliff where the tracks parted. She looked up. This would be the perfect spot for an ambush, if she was any judge. With one more step she was almost under the rock formation, and a shadow dropped from above.

“Yaaaarrgh!”

Shepard rolled out of the way of the attacking turian and stood up in a fight stance. The turian mirrored her position.

“Wait, are you-.”

“Die, human,” the turian yelled in a distinct dialect, and Shepard evaded the attack with ease. Familiar moves.

“Please, I don’t want to fight,” she tried, and was rewarded with a claw swipe for er efforts.

“Dammit, turian, said I don’t want to fight,” she yelled and slammed her attacker with a stasis field. It became suspended in mid air, and Shepard used the moment to unclasp its helmet and remove it.

“Mevia! Thank the gods.”

“You ..? Shepard?!”

Shepard slid open her visor, and despite all the blood and the tears, she was instantly recognizable to her old teammate.

“What are you doing here? Why are you attacking us. Where is Ivar?!”

“We didn’t attack you,” Shepard said. “The first two shuttles were probably downed by geth, or the batarians.”

“No, we heard.. we was told.. the first shuttle was an old Alliance junker, with pirates wearing old alliance uniforms. We were to kill on sight.. Spirits..”

“Fuck! It’s like a perfect storm. We here for batarian pirates and finding only geth, and you here for human pirates and finding us, it’s like-..”

“Where’s Ivar?!”

“Mevia..”

“WHERE’S IVAR?” Mevia thrummed at Shepard while grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking wildly.

“Hey, hey, cut it out!”

“WHERE IS MY MATE!”

Something in Shepard’s head snapped.

“HE’S RIGHT HERE, SEE?”

She held out her arm, still covered in Argyle’s blood and some hair tufts.

“THAT’S ALL THAT’S LEFT OF HIM, OKAY? FIRST SHOT, AND HE WAS GONE!”

The shaking stopped instantly.

“..first...shot..?”

“Yeah, we were on the ridge above the camp, trying to signal the turian ship in orbit.”

“First...shot..”

“Yes, but..”

“First shot..”

Finally, it dawned on Shepard.

“Mevia, did you..?”

Mevia started to laugh and thrum uncontrollably. Her entire body had started to tremble.

“First shot, first shot, first shot, first shot, I killed him, first shot, got him good, first shot, killed my mate, first shot, killed my mate, killed my mate, killed my mate, KILLED MY MATE!”

She grabbed for Shepard’s gun and the pair of them grappled in a deadly struggle.

“Mevia, NO! Stop it!”

“LET GO OF THE GUN, SHEPARD! LET ME HAVE IT!”

 

Another turian stepped out of a side ravine , and upon seeing the scene before him, he ran forward and pressed a needle in Mevia’s waist though a damaged portion of her armor.

“Myyyy…. maaathheee..” she wheezed as she fell to her knees.

Shepard raised her gun to the turian’s head, but he didn’t reach for his weapon.

“Shepard, please. Help me,” he pleaded.

She squinted, and realized who he was.

“Castor?”

“Yes. Mevia is out cold, and will be for a time. I need your help with Aius. He’s bleeding to death.”

Shepard holstered her gun and together they hid the unconscious Mevia behind some boulders. Castor signaled her to follow, and Shepard ran after the medic heedless of the danger. After all that bloodshed, she could at least help save Aius.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was jolly.. Two more down, and one in critical condition. There won' be much left of Four if this keeps up. Not to mention what this will do to a certain lieutenant's reputation..


	68. Secrets of Torfan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard tried to make good on the mistakes she's made, and makes an unexpected discovery on Torfan.

Castor led her down a narrow path in the ravine. There was blue blood trails on the shales, and it wouldn’t have been difficult pursuing them had she intended to do so. Right now, she was in a different state of mind. The pair of them had rolled Mevia behind cover before leaving her unconscious body behind. It didn’t feel right, but there was no other choice.

“Why did you come back for her if Aius is injured?” Shepard asked.

Castor held up a small bag.

“Needed her bandages and medigel.”

“Right. How bad is it?”

“Bad.”

“...”

They walked on silently for five more minutes.

“Here we are. Wait here.”

He walked out in front of her and checked the surroundings, then waved her to follow.

“I told the others to continue on, find a spot to contact the Ravuna. We figured Mevia could stop the humans from following.”

“She probably could, if she’d thrown a grenade at the small pass. Since I came alone, I guess she thought she could take me down alone. And your team won’t find one. This whole area is jammed.”

Castor glanced at her. “Would she have managed to take you down?”

“No,” Shepard said simply.

“It’s over here,” Castor said.

She saw Aius now, his body hidden under a camo tarp. When Castor pulled it aside, she gasped. The younger turian looked like he’d been crushed under a boulder. His armor was sundered, sliced apart by something sharp and leaving deep cuts in the hide underneath. One arm was dripping with blood, and his fringe looked like someone had taken a hammer to it.

It had been years since she’d attended the alien biology class in N-training, but nevertheless Shepard quickly knelt beside Castor and unpacked her own med-pack.

Castor nodded appreciatively and they effectively stripped Aius from his armor. The medic started wrapping his bandage roll around Aius chest, which was bleeding profusely, while Shepard wrapped his knee and thigh, filling the wound with medigel. While they worked, Castor couldn’t help but ask questions.

“So you knew.. You didn’t kill her.”

“I knew.”

“How long?”

The question was neutral, but she sensed the tension underneath.

“Since I saw Strabo and Nirea’s bodies.”

“Not before?”

“No.”

Shepard ripped open a medigel packet and laid a long thick strip on a gash in Aius’ arm .

“Argyle’s dead too.”

Castor’s words were a statement, and she glanced at him .

“I wish you hadn’t told Mevia. I heard her.. vocalizing grief.”

“Did you know she’s the one that killed him? First shot..”

Castor’s mandibles drooped, then he snapped them to his jaw.

“Spirits damn this day! That’s just.. it’s evil!”

“Yeah..”

Shepard winced when she saw the state of Aius fringe up close . One of the horns was torn loose and dangled from a slither of hide. A few of the others were splintered and cut.

“Can that be fixed?” she asked.

“Maybe, if he lives.”

They carefully placed the horn back in position, grateful for his unconsciousness and sprinkled the wound with antiseptic before rolling yet another bandage.

“How did this happen?”

“He got thrown from the shuttle and almost crushed under it.”

“Fuck..”

“Shepard, was that..you?”

“Yeah..”

Their eyes met, silently examining the other for guilt or regret, even shame. There was plenty of both on either side.

“I should have argued stronger for ascertaining we had the right target,” Castor said in low tones. “But they.. _we_ wanted revenge after we discovered the shuttles.”

“We should’ve tried harder with the signal,” Shepard said. “And I.. I should have protected my team better.”

“This means war, you know that?”

“Probably,” Shepard said.

Aius suddenly gasped and bent his damaged body up in an unnatural bridged position.

“Damn it! He’s going into shock, maybe cardiac arrest!”

Castor tried to hold Aius down, and Shepard followed suit.

“Fuck! How do you fix that?”

“Anything we had is back in the crashed shuttle. I can’t do anything!”

“Oh gods..”

Aius fell back on the ground and went dead quiet. Shepard cursed, but Castor did some calculations in his head.

“Shepard, you can do something for him!”

“Run back to the shuttle? Will that be enough tim-..”

“No, use biotics!”

She froze.

“Biotics? On his heart? Castor, I’m more likely to rip it apart than save him.”

“If you don’t he’ll die either way. I just need one more chance to stabilize him.”

“Castor..” she said with a pained expression. “I don’t wanna kill anymore friends today.”

“Please, Shepard, don’t let Aius die like this. He’s got one chance, and he’ll die anyway if this doesn’t succeed.”

She exhaled and placed her hand over Aius' chest. Castor gently nudged it to position it above his heart.

“Come on, for me. For Aius.”

The expression on Aius lifeless eyes contained terror and pain, and Shepard felt a pang of guilt for putting him in that state. It would be infinitely worse leaving him like this if she could save him.

“I’ll try.”

She tamped down on her emotions and reclaimed the focus she needed.

Castor held a hand over hers to support her, and Shepard let go of her doubt.

One miniature biotic charge surged in her hand and passed through Aius’ carapace.

“Again,” Castor ordered.

The second charge went through, and Castor saw a little tremor on his monitor.

“Again!”

At the third charge, Aius jerked on the ground and huffed out blood through his nose, then he started shivering.

“We did it,” Castor said hurriedly. “Help me put something under his feet, I want the blood to go as low as possible.”

They propped him up as well as could be arranged, but Shepard spotted something else.

“Castor, you’re shot.”

“It’s nothing, really,” he said dismissively.

“No, it’s not. Take this,” she said and handed him the remaining med pack from her kit. “Put something on that, now. You can’t save everybody else if you die too.”

“You’re not my leader anymore,” Castor bit back and tried to hide his injury. “They need it more than me.”

Shepard still held out the packets to him.

“Not as your leader, as a friend. Please, Castor. I don’t want to lose any more of you.”

Castor looked down, then accepted the bandages and the gel. He wrapped a quick roll around his ribs.

“You should go back. If you can, please don’t kill any more of my team. They’re not bad, they’re just..”

“Soldiers,” Shepard finished. “Keep them away from the mining camp. I’ll try to remove the jamming ordinance.”

She got up and took one last look at Aius .

“This never should’ve happened.”

Castor hesitated, then got up to say some parting words.

“Shepard, I.. I wanted to...This situation is..”

“I know. Take care of them for me, Castor Sorio.”

She turned on her heel and walked away before he could say anything else.

 

**2178 CE – February 13 th – Torfan – 11:23 AM**

When Shepard arrived back at at the mining camp, she was met with an unenthusiastic _‘hello.’_ She didn’t bother with getting angry, merely counted the survivors. Despite leaving two to search among the injured, there were only 9 survivors in total, including the major . The only bright element was that one of those were Samson. The missing member of Delta h ad an open wound in his rib cage, and everyone could see his lung moving with every breath, but he yet lived.

“Hey Shepard,” he gasped. “Got those birds?”

“In a manner,” Shepard said. They won’t come back. We need to find that fucking jammer.”

“How do you propose we do that?” Gustavo said.

“I think it’s in the one place we haven’t fought.”

“The mines? Are you kidding? You said it was too dangerous.”

“It is. Listen, guys, I’m not asking anyone to follow me, not after the incident in the ravine, but I could use some help watching my back in there.”

“I’ll go,”Samson said.

“Anyone but Samson,” Shepard said with a tired smile. “I can see your insides.”

“I’ll come,” the mutinous sergeant said. “I can handle Gustavo’s scanner.”

There was little choice but to accept, and she nodded gratefully.

“Let’s go.”

 

“What are they guarding in here?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “What I really would like to know, is how they managed to coax all these geth inside the bunker. What the hell could’ve drawn them in?”

“Do we want to know, lieutenant?”

“Probably not,” she admitted. “But we have no choice.”

As she suspected, the geth had left quite a few nasty surprises down there, and that was in addition to the batarian s’ built in defense system, somehow magically reactivated once they sat foot inside.

Twice, they triggered a grenade trap, making the tunnel shake and sprinkle sand and dust from the metal beams. Even the metal ribbons were twanging dangerously.

“I think we’re getting closer to the signal,” the sergeant said.

They followed the beeping signal of the detector to a broken vault. The geth had managed to breach the wall enough for a human to pass through the gap, and their timely arrival had turned their attention before they could widen the breach to get to whatever was hidden inside.

“Well, you or me, sir?” the sergeant said.

“I’ll go,” Shepard said. “Keep an eye out for other signs of life in here, artificial or otherwise.”

“Yes, sir.”

The hole in the vault door was barely narrow enough for her to squeeze past, and Shepard carefully pressed her way into the room. It was dimly lit with emergency lights.

“Hello? Anyone here?”

There was no reply, but somehow, she felt closely observed.

“I’m Lieutenant Shepard, Systems Alliance.”

The sentence toned out with still no reply. Crouching down, she moved closer to the innermost area. A large panel of dishes and transmitters were set in a half moon around something or someone mounted on the wall. When she got closer, she saw the figure was a geth unit . A light faintly blinked in its front lens, but she detected no other movement. The metal plating on the geth armor were cut open and wires crudely soldered into the core. On the wall panel, a signal looped over and over, and Shepard knew she’d found the source of the jamming. There were no tools around, so she did what she did best and improvised. Under a power aggregator she found a steel rod and went to work breaking the geth from the wall mounts. The light continued to flash from its lens as she broke it free from the bindings, but it made no sound or attempt to move otherwise. The batarians must’ve disabled it when they rigged it as a lure for the geth, she figured. More and more thick wires and power cables fell from the geth’s body, and when she disconnected the last one, the signal panel went blank.

“There. Last one, time I was off,” she said to herself and turned to leave, when the geth on the floor reactivated.

_“Bzz_.. Shepard Lieutenant.. _bzz._.”

She spun around and flared a shield with both hands. The biotic glow made the whole vault shimmer with blue.

“ _Bzzt._. Shepard Lieutenant of the Alliance.”

“What the fuck are you? Geth don’t talk!”

“We.. _bzzt._. communicate.”

“Not with us, you fucking murderer!”

“ _Bzz_.. Not.. murderer!”

“Oh no? Then why did your fellow geth slaughter my teams? Why did you trick us here?”

_“Bzzt_.. No geth here.. Heretics.. _Bzz_.. No killings… No killings… No killings..”

“Fuck you!”

Shepard pulled her gun and aimed it at the blinking lens of the damaged geth. The anger had returned, that burning ache that wanted to destroy everything in its path, but this time, she’d learned something of consequences of indulging that ache. Her hand trembled, but her mind was remarkably clear.

“ _Bzzt_. Not murderer. Prisoner.”

She looked around the room at the evidence. This geth had been trapped inside, chained to a wall, but the other geth were here to save it, right? It was one of them.

“Your people killed my friends,” she said, gun firmly in hand.

“ _Bzzt_. Not geth.. _Bzzt_.. Heretics,” the prone geth said with some difficulty.

“Whatever, machine! You owe me 40 lives for your miserable existence. Their lives saved your ass.”

The geth’s light blinked several times, and the vent flaps around it opened and closed several times.

“ _Bzzt_.. disagree..”

“I don’t care what you say, you.. THING! I lost over 40 humans to reach you, and you’re to blame!”

“ _Bzzt_.. No consensus.”

“Whatever. Lay here until you rust away, stupid machine. You’re not worth the projectile.”

“ _Bzzt_.. Disagree.”

“Oh, you want a bullet in your head now?” she said menacingly.

The geth moved the flaps uneasy, but said nothing.

“I didn’t think so.”

Shepard holstered the gun and left the geth inside. When she reached the narrow breach in the wall, she discovered her arm had been grazed with something, and that it had become swollen and painful. The shoulder armor felt like a straight jacket. She dislodged it from the chest armor and dropped it on the ground.

On the other side, the sergeant gave her a short smile.

“The jamming is gone,” he said. “Let’s contact the captain.”

“Lets,” Shepard said with one last look at the vault door.

Whatever the thing inside was, the cleanup crew could get it. It would likely not be able to get out on its own. She nodded to the sergeant and they quick marched to the exit.

 

In the vault, a low scraping sound could be heard when the geth platform crawled towards the vault door. Before it reached the opening, it came into contact with the shoulder pad on the floor. The dim lighting were no match for its lens.

“Shepard Lieutenant, Alliance,” it buzzed in its own language. “First non-lethal contact with alien established. Demands of recompense for human lives. Difficult to ascertain value.”

The geth waited as 1183 programs tried to determine course of action.

“More information needed,” the core program finally concluded. “Shepard Lieutenant, we watch you.”

_We watch you._

 

* * *

 

Outside under the open sky, Shepard shuddered. This had been the worst day in her life, and if they failed to make contact with the Intrepid, things would get even uglier.

Gustavo tried hailing the cruiser with their last long distance sender.

“Intrepid, this is ground team Delta, please respond?”

The response was immediate.

“This is captain Lawrence of the Intrepid, damn it’s good to hear from you. Where’s the major?”

Gustavo flinched, but Shepard patched into the line.

“Sir, this is lieutenant Shepard. The major is incapacitated. I’m in command for now.”

“I.. see. Are you under attack? What the hell happened down there?”

“It was a trap, sir. The base was filled with geth, then someone shot down two shuttles entering Torfan’s atmosphere. One of those shuttles were turian, sir.”

“Are you saying the geth shot down the shuttles?”

“Sir, I don’t know. It could have been the geth, it could have been the few batarians on base. We don’t have enough information on that yet. Our teams were caught between the geth and the turians.”

“So the turians started it,” the captain said grimly.

“Sir, whomever shot down those shuttles did. It wasn’t us, and the turians didn’t know we were Alliance.”

“How do you know?” captain Lawrence said suspiciously.

“I, uh, intercepted one of their soldiers,” Shepard said. “They thought we were pirates in Alliance uniforms. The shuttle they were pursuing was an old refitted one of ours, sir.”

“I see, I think. I’ll send someone down for you guys. How many are alive?”

“Nine, sir.”

“ _Nine?!_ ”

“Yes, sir.”

“God damn this day,” the captain swore and disconnected.

 

“That’s it then,” Samson said. “We’re going home.” He almost collapsed against the rock he was sitting on, and Gustavo was there in an instant with more medigel.

“Did you really capture a turian soldier?” the sergeant said.

“Yes, I did,” Shepard said sadly.

“What did you do with it?”

“I inflicted more pain than I should have,” she said and sat down with her head in her hands.

Now that it was all over, she began to think about the future repercussions. Torfan had become a slaughter house, and she’d killed her own friends, turians she practically considered family. What would everyone say? What would Decian think?

“It’s all right, lieutenant,” the sergeant said. “You did what you had to do.”

The sharp retort she wanted to say never came out, and instead she let the tears flow unhindered and hidden behind her visor.

 

“Satisfied?”

Captain Lawrence glared at his counterpart captain Victus.

“Not by a half, _captain_ ,” Victus barked. “I want you to stand down. Your own officer said the turians didn’t start this.”

“Neither did she say we did, _captain_ ,” Lawrence snapped back. “There will be an inquiry!”

“You may depend upon it, sir!”

“An independent one, not with your biased investigators, sir!”

“Just what are you implying, sir?”

“I’m not implying, captain Victus, I’m stating it outright!”

“You want a fight, human? Order your ship to fire, see how that goes!”

“I won’t be goaded by some turian low captain,” Lawrence hissed. “You may take whatever shuttles you have left to search for survivors, but if you fire one shot at my guys..”

“Empty threats,” Victus snarled and cut the link.

 

“Send the remaining shuttles down there, but do NOT engage the humans,” he barked to his XO. “We will find out whether or not they’re telling the truth.”

Vyrnnus clamped his mandibles to his jaw. The operation had been a great success, but he’d preferred a full out war. Nevertheless, a full diplomatic crisis was nothing to sneer at, and this would effectively rupture the burgeoning human-turian alliance of the last year. His omni-tool buzzed. The message was from the primarch, marked top secret.

_“His Excellency primarch Fedorian would ask your expedite return for Palaven, regarding crucial matters of state.”_

Vyrnnus flared his mandibles. So that’s how it was, was it? Somehow, something had given the primarch cause for concern. He was never this formal in his usual requests. He looked at Victus, to see if he’d been given orders to seize him, but the captain was preoccupied with the concerns of his men on Torfan. The primarch wouldn’t want to alert him to his suspicions, but Vyrnnus was an old player at this game. It was time to return to the Terminus Systems. Palaven was becoming a little dull, after all.

 

**2178 CE – February 13 th – The Citadel – 18:36 PM**

The entire Citadel had been in an uproar since midday, when the first rumors of an impending war between the humans and the turians had broken out in the populace. Chellick had been on guard duty all day in the lower wards of Zakera, but so far nothing but unsubstantiated hearsay and suppositions were in the news reels. The humans and the turians kept apart even when passing each other in the street, and he saw a lot of civilians coming down to the lower wards and going to the docks, probably to buy illegal firearms. He reported this to his superiors and hoped they would deal with this as soon as possible.

After six hours, he was allowed 40 minutes for meal time, and C-Sec had requisitioned a nearby restaurant for this purpose. Almost every officer had been called in, and he’d passed Garrus going out on patrol on his way in to the eatery.

Chellick ordered two steaks and some energy drinks and began chowing down his food like he was starving. A second plate clanged on the table, and his mentor Jarik Rutso sat down beside him.

“Have you heard the latest rumor?” he whispered conspiratorially.

“That we’re at war with the humans? Yes,” Chellick said.

“No, not that. I overheard the chief speaking to Pallin. It seems that Jane Shepard, the daughter of _that_ Shepard, is involved in this war rumor.”

Chellick almost knocked over his bottles when he turned to face Rutso.

“What?”

“I know, right? Someone should have killed the pair of them long ago,” Rutso said and took a bite of his sandwich.

“That’s not what I meant,” Chellick hissed. “What about the rumor?”

“They were on a mission and started firing indiscriminately on a turian patrol,” Rutso said. “Most of the turians were killed, but so were the humans.”

“JA-...Shepard is dead?!”

“No, she survived, unfortunately. Oh, here comes the commissioner. Guess I better make room.” Rutso got up and left, and Pallin eased into his chair.

“I take it that young gossip has told you about Shepard,” Pallin said with a sigh. “Truth be told, it’s far worse than he knows.”

“Jane is not a killer, uncle. This is nothing but lies,” Chellick said hotly.

“Decian..”

“She’s not! This is just another attempt to smear her good name.”

“Decian, would you listen to me, for once in your life?”

His tone made Chellick close his mouth plates.

“At around 10 this morning, a detachment of our forces were met with armed resistance from what they believed were pirates at the planet Torfan. One of our military shuttles were shot down, along a number of hostages in a different ship. We engaged the enemy on the surface, meeting heavy resistance of both humans and geth. When the dust cleared, of a platoon of 35, less than ten survived.”

“Spirits,” Chellick mumbled.

“It turns out, the human resistance was none other than the illustrious Shepard the younger, having usurped command from her superior officer.”

“That doesn’t sound like her,” Chellick interjected. “Jane does well at following orders.”

Pallin flicked a mandible at his nephew.

“That’s not what the reports say. Shepard ordered her remaining soldiers into a headlong charge on our lines, breaking our defenses and routing most of our teams, at the cost of many lives on both sides. There was hardly a soul left on Torfan after she was done.”

“I don’t believe any of this,” Chellick said.

“Really? Would you believe an old acquaintance of Shepard?”

“Of Jane? Who?”

“First medical officer, Castor Sorio. He was one of the few left alive from the slaughter.”

Chellick stopped moving, stopped breathing and just.. stopped. For a long awkward moment, the implications became abundantly clear to him.

“Jane fought.. the Ravuna crew?”

“Indeed. From what little I know, she’s killed or maimed most of her old “friends” from that dratted station of yours.”

“Noo… Noooo. No! This is a LIE!” Chellick bellowed and jumped up.

Pallin grabbed his cowl and pulled him back down.

“Be quiet! Don’t bring any more shame over the family than you already have!”

“This is a lie! Shepard loves those guys, she’d never do anything to hurt them!”

“These are the facts, Decian. When push comes to shove, she’ll chose her own kind over ours. You must see this.”

“I won’t! I’ll call her and get the truth myself!”

“No need, she’ll be returning here for the court martial, as will the rest of all those unfortunate souls involved in this atrocity.”

“I have to talk to her, I’ll find out the truth!”

Pallin shook his head and sighed.

“I know you will, but Decian.. Be careful.”

“Why?”

“You can’t be seen anywhere near her in public now, they’re already calling her the butcher of Torfan.”

Chellick thrummed his disapproval.

“This is all a mistake, I know it! Jane would never do anything like this, just you wait and see!”

Pallin watched his nephew storm out, and while he felt for his kin’s pain, he also felt relieved. Decian would hear the truth of this from the female in question, and whatever else Shepard had been accused of in her life, lying wasn’t one of them. Finally, honor would be restored to their clan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week, another overtime rush. Add to that the release of Monster Hunter World, and you guys almost got a late update this week, but I forced my fingers away from the ps4-controller and back to the keyboard, so here we are :D  
> A little less traumatizing horrors in this chapter, but the end doesn't promise very well, does it?  
> (Or rather, *some* of you guys are almost popping the champagne bottle, I bet..) XD


	69. Two sides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard retells her story again and again, and Chellick is put under pressure from family.

**2178 CE – February 15 th – The Citadel – Docks – 08:12 AM**

Despite all his attempts, Chellick had not been able to get into contact with Jane. Her omni-tool was entirely offline. Every message bounced back with an error message, and he had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He knew the procedures. She was being sequestered by the army before the hearing. The Citadel buzzed with rumors, one more fantastic than the other. Some said primarch Fedorian was amassing his Fleet at the borders of the Apien Crest, others said the Alliance’s admiralty was gathered at Arcturus, preparing for an all out offensive. The one thing Chellick had noted was the prevalence of krogan mercenaries suddenly arriving at the station. Despite their numbers, the numbers of incidents between different drunken war bands had decreased. Uncle Pallin had filed this information under deeply suspicious. Some of their leaders had even been seen in the human embassy, and the scuttlebutt was that they had volunteered their services in case of an escalation of hostilities. The entire world was on edge. Citadel newsreels announced that the Council had intervened and were to hold the first formal hearing to mediate between the Hierarchy and the Alliance. The hearing were to be closed to the public, and if the three councilors found that either party had committed a crime, the court martial would proceed.

As Commissioner, Pallin had a seat on the hearing, and he’d promised to take Chellick along. Chellick, on the other hand, wasn’t sure he was going to like what he heard. The casualty list had been released, and among them he’d seen three very familiar names; Strabo Calan, Nirea Tarpeian and Ivar Argyle. He’d met them all at the latter’s wedding. There was no mention of his mate, but she could still be among the wounded.

For the moment Chellick was hovering outside the closed off docking gate where the Alliance cruiser had landed, hoping to see Jane. The gate guards were in full body armor and heavily armed, and he knew the situation would be almost identical to how the Ravuna were docking on the opposite side of the station. From his left he heard footsteps, and sighed with relief when he saw it was another turian. Even if that turian was Garrus Vakarian.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Vakarian.”

“Seen her yet?”

“No..”

Garrus turned and scanned the area with his visor.

“If they see you spying with that, they’ll break it over your crest.”

“Good thing they won’t see me, then,” Garrus replied. “She’s not out yet.”

“Thank you, captain obvious.”

“No problem.”

They waited in silence for a while, then Garrus turned and sighed.

“Do you think she did it?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“She’s Jane. She wouldn't kill her friends, no matter what.”

“Maybe,” Garrus said thoughtfully. “Sometimes one might not have a choice.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Could you determine friend from foe in a heated battle on opposing sides?”

“Look, don’t speculate, okay? When Jane takes the stand, you’ll see she didn’t do this.”

Garrus said nothing more, but turned his attention to the cruiser as the cargo door opened.

“Could be the injured,” Garrus said.

“They were taken away an hour ago.”

“Then..”

“Yeah..”

They watched as a whole strike team surrounded four human soldiers and began escorting them from the premises. Among them was one familiar face.

“Jane,” Chellick whispered.

“Don’t talk to her,” Garrus warned. “They might shoot.”

“I’m not that dumb,” he snapped back, but he had to admit to himself, he really wanted to call out to her.

When the troop marched past them, Chellick could’ve sworn he saw Jane’s eyes on him, but she seemed.. blank. No feelings could be ascertained just by looking at her, and no hint of recognition on her part. What had happened at Torfan? A seed of doubt was sown in his mind, but he still wanted to believe that none of this were true. They’d hear all about it in 24 hours, both from her and from the surviving turians. Hopefully, their respective governments would not be at war by night cycle tomorrow.

 

**2178 CE – February 15 th – The Citadel – Human Embassy – 09:38 AM**

“I hope you understand the gravity of the situation, Shepard!”

Ambassador Udina was red in the face from all his pacing and talking. Shepard merely stared at a spot on the wall in front of her, letting his words flow in one ear and out the other.

“Are you even listening?”

“Yes, sir. The gravity of the situation, sir,” she parroted.

“Well, at least you got that,” Udina snapped and dropped down in his comfortable office chair. “The Alliance would like a detailed account on what happened from the moment you set foot on Torfan until the moment you ‘relieved’ major Kyle of his command.”

“It’s all in the written report, sir.”

“So you say, oh so you say, lieutenant, but there are many little ways one can avoid telling the whole truth.”

“What truth would that be, sir?”

“You wanted to take command! You wanted to get another set of laurels to follow in your mother’s footsteps. These are the things their lawyers will claim, and by God, if there is a chink in your story anywhere, those volus will find it.”

From his corner, David Anderson crossed his arms.

“Easy now, ambassador. There is nothing to suggest that the lieutenant isn’t telling the truth.”

“Are you telling me you’re buying this? A highly decorated officer looses his wits in the middle of combat, and one of his junior officers take over, by force?”

“If that’s in the report, then yes.”

Udina turned his beady eyes on Shepard again.

“Is this the truth?”

Shepard glanced at Anderson. He nodded, giving tacit approval. She sighed.

“The major ordered my team to take the hangar. We did, but a small group of batarians fled from us. We pursued and killed them, During this, two aircrafts arrived, one old Alliance scout ship and one turian combat shuttle. They were both shut down by forces unknown.”

“Wait a minute,” Udina said and held up a hand. “Forces unknown? Surely you must have some idea?”

“I’d say 50/50 geth or batarian stragglers, sir.”

“That’s not reassuring,” the ambassador said and made notes. “Continue.”

“The major ordered us to contact the turian ship orbiting Torfan, but we discovered our communications were down. Then-..”

“Wait. How did you know there was a turian ship over Torfan?”

“Standard turian military procedure. The shuttle is not for long range pursuit, but can maneuver more easily than a cruiser in low orbit. It bore the sigil of the Hierarchy, so it was a safe assumption.”

“No assumptions are safe, lieutenant. Go on.”

“The major had breached the bunker at this point, and the last thing we heard was that it was filled with geth. We could either return to aid the other teams, or try and contact the turians.”

“You chose the latter option. Why?”

“To avoid the situation we currently have, sir.”

“It’s a hard call to make,” Anderson said. “But I would’ve done the same.”

“You’re not under investigation, captain Anderson. Stay out of it,” Udina snarled. “So you left your fellow teams to fight for themselves. Then what?”

Shepard bit down hard to stop herself from throwing something at the man. When she continued, it was through gritted teeth.

“It was impossible to make contact. The jamming signal was too strong. We took fire when the turians descended with their second shuttle, and we lost one man. I lost a good friend.”

“Yes, yes, it was a tragedy.” Udina waved his hand impatiently. “Keep going.”

“We went back to provide support to the major. I and one other member of my team took down the shuttle and several geth with a mining laser we’d discovered earlier. When we got to the major, he was.. he was having a breakdown, sir. There’s no gentle way of saying that. He began ranting about surrendering to the turians.”

“Perhaps you should have,” Udina said.

Shepard slowly got up of her seat and with deceptive calm placed both palms flat down on his desk.

“And perhaps you, sir, should read up on turian military doctrine. When they encounter armed resistance, they don’t usually take prisoners. They kill on sight. Perhaps if you’d fought in the first contact war, you’d know that.”

Anderson placed a firm hand on her shoulder and pulled her back.

“Easy, soldier. Stand down.”

She sat back down but kept clenching and unclenching her left hand. A trait she’d picked up by hanging around turians for too long.

“The major was hysterical, sir. I had no choice. He was destroying morale among the remaining marines.”

“Do you know how that will look on paper, Shepard? The Alliance dispatch a man who crumbles under fire to such an important task?”

“Sir, he’d just lost most of his men. It could’ve happened to anyone.”

“But not to you,” Udina said slyly.

“It wasn’t my day, sir” she replied, determined not to be goaded again.

“And later? Your report get significantly less detailed about the aftermath of the battle, Shepard.”

“I.. I found out that I knew some of the turians on the other side from my time on Jump Zero. We arranged sort of a truce. They were to stay away from us while I identified the source of the jamming.”

“And they agreed?”

“Yes, sir. I returned to the mining camp and entered the bunker. The signal was sent from a geth hooked up to a signal amplifier and booster. That’s probably how they lured the other geth inside.”

“You think this was a trap?”

“I think the evidence points in that direction, yes.”

“Too bad nobody but you saw this ‘geth’ then.”

Shepard looked up, surprised. “What?”

“When our investigators got to the bunker, there was no geth inside. Oh, there was plenty of signal transmitters and such, but no geth.”

“I don’t understand, sir. It was neutralized and couldn't walk.”

“Never mind, we can find more evidence. Listen to me now. Under no circumstances must you seem angry with the turians tomorrow, Shepard. I’ll provide all the rage needed. You must be the dutiful soldier whom only does her duty, do you understand? No grandiose statements, no anger, no blaming the other side. I will do all the blaming when the time comes.”

“I think I understand, sir.”

“Good. I suppose I can spin this to our advantage,” Udina said. “Especially when they put that turian..” Here he checked his reports, “Medic? on the stand. When he corroborates your story, I’ll spin a yarn of militaristic negligence on the part of the turians as to make Shakespeare impressed.”

“Unimpressed; Huzzah,” Shepard muttered in her best elcor impression.

Anderson gave her a stern look. “Lieutenant!”

She shrunk under his stare.

“Yes, sir. I understand. I’ll behave.”

Udina gave a mirthless laugh.

“I hope so, for all our sake. If you bungle this up, we’ll be at war with the turians by tomorrow.”

 

**2178 CE – February 16 th – The Citadel – Councilor's Hall – 08:30 AM**

There was quite a large attendance to the preliminary hearing. No members of the public were allowed entrance, and that included journalists, some of whom loitered around the entrance to try and get a word out of the military brass of both species.

Chellick and Pallin were seated on one of the long sides, the one furthest away from the witness boxes, he noted. The Council had separated turian and humans to each side of the hall, probably to avoid a riot. To Pallin’s right sat the Executor himself. Galenus Vakarian had not brought his son, or maybe Garrus had refused to come. Chellick didn’t know, neither did he care. All he wanted was for Jane to take the stand and deny the outrageous rumors about her. No matter how many times he checked around the hall, he couldn’t spot any of Jane’s old turian team. That didn’t necessarily mean anything, since none of the Alliance rescued from Torfan was anywhere to be seen either, but still.. He worried. 

Pallin checked his omni-tool, and leaned towards Chellick.

“It’s starting.”

A commotion at the front led to a small scuffle between human and turian guardsmen, before the human ambassador had the floor. At his right, the official representative from the Hierarchy, Axi Fedorian, scowled at his counterpart. He was surrounded by volus lawyers, tugging at his frock to keep him quiet.

“Honored Council, we are here at your request, to shed light on a most atrocious incident,” Udina began.

Pallin groaned. “Spirits, he’s going to blab for an hour, at least.”

Beside him, Galenus Vakarian chuckled.

“Did you expect anything else? They want this to stick to us, to avoid getting slapped with sanctions.”

“Damn pyjaks,” Pallin growled, but kept his voice down.

 

Chellick listened to Udina’s rant with rapt attention, waiting for the moment when Jane would appear, but the more he heard, the worse he felt.

There had indeed been needless death on Torfan, on both sides, and Jane seemed to be at the center of it all.

After 45 minutes, Councilor Sparatus asked Udina to cut his monologue short and present his first witness. This caused a stir at the human side of the hall, and Councilor Tevos had to call for silence.

“I call lieutenant Jane Shepard,” Udina announced, and the stir moved to the turian side of the grand hall.

“Finally,” Pallin said. “The truth revealed.”

His remark made Chellick shrink in his seat.

 

A side door opened, and Jane walked in, wearing her dress uniform and the N7 insignia patch discreetly on her arm. The look on her face was pale and drawn, like she hadn’t slept for days. Chellick let slip a minute hum of sympathy, and was immediately chastised by his uncle.

“Decian! For shame!”

They received a curious glance from Galenus, but by then Jane had taken her seat and was sworn in by Councilor Valern. He was to be the questioner, as Sparatus was too controversial a choice and Tevos wanted to appear to be the great arbiter, Pallin informed Chellick.

“Lieutenant Shepard, are you prepared to give an honest account of the events that took place on Torfan.”

“I am, sir.”

“Good. Start with your landing, working up to the arrival of the Hierarchy shuttle.”

Chellick listened to Jane retelling the story she doubtlessly had repeated many times before to the Alliance. The flat tone of her voice wreaked havoc with his insides. Something bad was coming up, he could feel it.

“And after you identified the shuttle as turian? What happened then?”

Again, she told the story in her lifeless voice, how she’d made the choice to try and contact the turian cruiser to avoid a confrontation. This was met with disdainful scoffs from the turian side.

“Silence! Silence, I say!” Tevos ordered. “Continue, lieutenant. Uninterrupted!” she said with a glare at the mutterers.

Chellick closed his eyes and placed a discreet hand on his voice box to stop himself from vocalizing when Jane told of Argyle’s death. His actions were gently disapproved of by his uncle, but what could he expect? His mate was up there, and she was in distress.

“After the loss of your comrade, what happened then?” Valern asked.

This was the turning point in the story, Chellick could sense it. Everyone in the hall sat up straighter and waited with bated breath. Jane told of her return to the pinned down teams, the use of the mining laser and the subsequent slaughter of both geth and turians. His mandibles drooped further and further as Jane explained how they’d mounted a full frontal assault with what little manpower was left of them, in the fear of being eradicated by the oncoming turians. It was true. The rumors were all true. Jane had led the attack that forced the turians into full retreat, killing several of her friends. Chellick was numb from his crest to the soles of his feet. The last part of her recounting were lost in his muddled brain, the only thing he could think about was the horror of it all. His uncle kept watching him, trying to get him to pay attention, but Chellick was lost. How could she have done this? How could they have made her do this? What would his people say?

“I think that’s captain Victus,” Galenus said to Pallin and pointed at a large turian sitting at the front. The captain looked grim while he took notes to Jane’s explanation.

“Thank you, lieutenant,” Valern said. “Who does the Hierarchy have as their first witness?”

Young Axi Fedorian stepped forward and thrummed his displeasure.

“Unfortunately, all our soldiers are incapable to appear before this Council at the moment,” he said. “Not that it would matter much, as long as there is no direct evidence for who shot those missiles at our shuttle. According to the lieutenant there, _nobody knows_ ,” he said in a high pitched voice.

“Are you implying that our witness is dishonest ?” Udina demanded.

“Perhaps she’s only saying what she believes to be true, who can tell,” Axi said loftily. “Are the Hierarchy really to believe that among all of the humans on Torfan, nobody saw who fired the missiles?”

“Most of those humans are dead!” Udina snapped. “Thanks to your people.”

“Why, it was probably the geth,” Axi said. “Isn’t that what we’re all claiming now?”

Udina was livid.

“The Alliance demand you present a witness from Torfan!”

“Demands, ambassador? We do not acquiesce to demands from an aggressor.”

“Calm down,” Tevos said. “Axi Fedorian, this hearing was held under the conditions that both the Hierarchy and the Alliance would present witnesses.”

“I do apologize, Councilor Tevos, but I cannot in good conscience risk the health of our soldiers merely to stand up here and expose themselves to the obfuscation of truth committed by the Alliance and their representative.”

At the last remark, he flared his mandibles at Udina, whom went completely red.

“THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!”

“Order!” Tevos said.

“The Hierarchy has acted in accordance with years of subtle hostility towards my people, now unveiled into the light of day by their reluctance to reveal the truth, that they’re the ones who interfered in a lawful action against a nefarious pirate den, and by their actions caused the murder and mayhem we saw on Torfan!”

Every turian in the hall was on their feet, shortly followed by the humans. The entire hall erupted in a gigantic brawl, but Chellick was pulled from the fray by his uncle.

“We expected this,” he said.

“That we did,” Galenus sighed. “Call in the riot squads.”

 

* * *

 

 

Despite the Council’s call for it, peace was not established until C-Sec riot police had emptied the hall and arrested around 50 people of both human and turian origins. At the end of it all, a lone turian clipped his sniper rifle, loaded with tranquilizers on his back and looked around the room. His father had been right. This had all been a showcase for the Fedorians. Nothing revealed by the humans would have stopped the primarch making a mockery of these proceedings, and now, well..

The best case scenario was a complete shutdown of diplomatic relations to Terra. The worst case was war.

 

**2178 CE – February 15 th – C-Sec Zakera – Chellick’s office – 20:25 PM**

“What does the newsfeed on Palaven say?”

His mother thrummed, and Chellick could hear how deeply unsettled she was.

“It’s chaos. The primarch has been on several channels, explaining how the humans can’t be trusted, and that the Council are giving them too much leeway.”

“I thought as much,” Chellick sighed.

“That’s not all,” his mother said hesitantly .

“Because of all the dead and the wounded, your father’s operation has been postponed indefinitely.”

Chellick gaped. “What?”

“It’s those Shepards,” his mother wailed. “The primarch is determined to get even, and he wants every little piece of evidence he can find from the bodies to prove that this was somehow their fault. Every doctor on Palaven who’s not required for emergency operations are redirected to this. ”

“Ja-.. Shepard is just one soldier, mom. She’s not-..”

“It’s her fault your father has to keep living with those leg stumps! Don’t you dare defend a human when your own kin is suffering.”

The words stuck in his gizzard, but he closed them.

“I hate them. All of them,” she continued. “Your father.. I see his will to live ebb away every day he’s forced to live like this. It steals his pride.”

“Mom, I’m doing the best I can.”

“I know, Decian. I know. I just fear it will be too late.”

“Don’t say that.”

 

After a short knock, Pallin marched into his office and turned on the newsreel.

“Hey, I’m on the line with mom, can you please-..”

“Listen,” Pallin snapped.

Chellick and his mother listened to an interview conducted by Khalisah al-Jilani, and the subject was a man in an Alliance sergeant uniform. The caption read ‘Survivor of Torfan.’

“ _And what did Shepard do then?”_

“ _She rallied all of us to a full charge. We got all fired up, screaming Kill the Birds, and we did! We killed those birds good. They think we care about diplomatic relations? Fuck them! Kill all the birds, I say!”_

“ _Ahem, yes. This has been Khalisah from Terran News. Feelings are running hot in the wake of-..”_

Pallin shut the monitor off and turned to Chellick.

“Kill the birds,” he said. “What an interesting thing to say.”

From Palaven, his mother began to warble. “I knew it. That entire family is racist. And they let these people walk free in the galaxy.”

Chellick stared from Pallin to his omni-tool.

“Mom, I’ll.. I’ll call you back, okay?”

He cut the link, and turned to Pallin.

“What was the meaning of that?”

“I should think the meaning is fairly obvious.”

“She’s still my mate, I can-..”

“You can do what? Turn back time? Stop her from killing her friends? Not instructing her squad to kill the birds?”

“I can’t.. I won’t…” Chellick floundered and dropped down, hiding his crest in his hands. “What am I supposed to do? I love her!”

“This is beyond your foolish infatuation. Decian, this is the moment you stand up and take a side with your family and your kin. Do you know what would happen to you if it were known that you were bedding the butcher of Torfan? Especially know that it’s been revealed she was shouting racial epithets before slaughtering our soldiers?”

“But I-..”

“Don’t you dare defend her!” Pallin snarled. “Do you have any regard for what my sister, your _mother,_ is going through?”

“Of course I do , but..”

“What will happen to your career if this gets out? And it will, they will hound her every footstep.”

“But..”

“Your reputation among your peers and colleagues?”

“That’s not-..”

“What will happen to your mother?”

Chellick froze.

“They would know it wasn’t her fault,” he tried, but heard how feebly it sounded.

Pallin thrummed at him.

“She’d be blamed for raising a faulty son, one so ensnared by the enemy of our people that he abandoned the creed of the turians to go gallivanting around the Citadel with a murderer. She could never show her face in public, and primarch Fedorian would make sure she never worked another day in the Apien Crest. Your father would be a legless wretch for the rest of his life. No one would help the father of a traitor walk again. ”

“Service before self,” Chellick whispered, as if grasping at straws he’d forgotten were there.

“Service before self, that’s right. You now have that choice, son. You can either choose to think with your plates and make yourself an outcast, volunteer for burning away your colony marks and become a traitor to Palaven, or you can save whatever is left of your dignity and become the turian your family needs you to be.”

Chellick tried to stop himself from vocalizing grief, and failed miserably.

“Uncle, please. Please don’t make me choose. She’s my mate, and you’re my family. We can.. we can..”

“No we cannot. Choose, Decian. Self-gratification. Or duty.”

He turned on his heel and left Chellick in his office, all alone and with the walls closing around him.

It was an impossible choice, but now he had to sacrifice one or several of the people he held most dear in this world.

His mate. Or his family.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, some of you have been predicting something like this, so I hope you're happy :) The final decision will be made next week, and some will rejoice and others.. not.  
> See you then :D


	70. All good things come to an end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and Chellick has some talking to do.

**2178 CE – February 16 th – The Citadel – Shepard’s hotel room – 19:24 PM**

The day had been overly long, but Shepard was at last alone in her room, exhausted after today’s events. After the hearing, Udina had kept her in his office at the embassy for hours, raging at Axi Fedorian and his clan in general, and the Hierarchy, and the fates that kept thwarting his plans for becoming a councilor. Uncle David had come looking for her at last, springing her from Udina’s self-pitying rants. He’d offered her a room in his flat, but she politely declined, citing a need for peace and quiet. David had agreed, but asked that she called her mother before she turned in.

That conversation had not been fun, but her mother had been strangely calm. She said a few choice words about primarch Fedorian and all his ilk, but otherwise, there was no diatribe against turians in general, and she seemed more worried about the prospect of war. Shepard used the moment to tell her mother about meeting Castor on the battlefield, and made it abundantly clear they were friends. Again, her mother was more worried about his absence from the hearing than the underlying friendship. When Hannah was called away by a message from her XO, Shepard felt more relieved than any time since Torfan. That was, until the next message ticked in on her newly reclaimed omni-tool.

_ <D.Chellick – Decian>: _ We need to talk.

That was all. She felt all her confidence evaporate and in it’s wake was a sense standing on the precipice of a great fall. No _‘Jane.’_ No _‘How are you? Are you okay?’_ Something about that phrase carried meaning even over the species barrier. The talk. Decian wanted to have the dreaded talk. Shepard sent a silent prayer to whatever god might be listening that it wouldn’t be about the thing she knew it would be about, but the universe was silent.

_ <J.Shepard – Jane>: _ Where?

_ <D.Chellick – Decian>: _ Your choice.

_ <J.Shepard – Jane>: _ Your place.

_ <D.Chellick – Decian>: _ … Okay. In an hour ?

_ <J.Shepard – Jane> _ : I’ll be there.

If this was heading in the direction she feared it might, she needed to be able to retreat, and she didn’t want to beg him to leave if this went sour. She tried to think positive. She loved the guy, and he loved her, she knew it. Maybe he only wanted to be more discreet, keep things under wraps. That was probably it. Dating the butcher of Torfan would tarnish any turian’s reputation, and Decian had that meddlesome uncle of his. They could work this out. They always had. Just in case though, maybe she should have a drink first. Or two, at the most.

 

**2178 CE – February 16 th – The Citadel – Galenus Vakarian’s Residence – 20:01 PM**

“Got the last of them under control, Garrus?”

His father cut his steak into small strips and downed several in one go.

“Yes. Once we’d clapped the worst trouble makers in irons, the rest of them dispersed rather quickly.”

Vistilla thrummed her dismay.

“Grown turians, _and_ humans, brawling like teenagers in a hormone frenzy. They should all be ashamed of themselves.”

To Garrus’ surprise, his father chuckled.

“I was expecting nothing else. Fedorian is playing a hard game with the humans.”

“Game?” Garrus said incredulously. “People have died! Friends of mine, human and turians. And Jane.. Jane’s the one who killed them,” he thrummed. “I don’t want it to be true.”

“Garrus..”

His mother added her thrum to his. Galenus watched the pair of them, and sighed.

“Maybe.. just maybe you’re a little hard on your human friend,” he said after a long hesitation.

“Galenus?” Vistilla said, stunned. “What are you talking about?”

“Yeah, what are you talking about, dad? Have you seen the news? Butcher of Torfan, that’s what they say.”

“You weren’t at the hearing, Garrus, you didn’t hear what she said. Furthermore, none of us heard the turian side of the story, since Axi refused to let that medic friend of yours testify.”

“Castor wasn’t there?”

“No. Courtesy of the primarch. He’s already putting political pressure on the Council for permission to build more dreadnoughts. The humans are voicing their intention of keeping up their building if the Council allows it. We’re seeing the start of a potential arms race.”

“Damn..”

“Damned indeed,” Galenus said. “ Besides, Butcher of Torfan is rather catchy, wouldn't you say? Kind of like Executioner of the Citadel.”

Garrus stared at his father.

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You’re actually speaking in defense of a Shepard?”

“Garrus, I’m getting too old for lies. Shepard the younger hasn’t voiced any antipathy towards turians until Torfan. She’s even wormed her way into being your friend, as well as having other turian acquaintances. What one says on the battlefield among the corpses of former comrades does not always compute with how one would act or speak outside it. This ‘kill the birds’ nonsense is nothing more than a diversion, and that silly space cow al Jilani should’ve stayed well clear of that interview.”

“Dad!”

“Galenus!”

“What?”

“How rude,” Vistilla said, trying to keep her mandibles to her jaw.

“Dad, if the journalists heard you..”

“Yes, yes. Scandalous. Garrus, you know I’m not a big supporter of that family, but I truly believe in this case that it was a perfect storm. I mean, our people arriving in the middle of a major Alliance operation? Seems very timely, in my opinion.”

“But who would benefit?” Vistilla asked. “Surely, neither the Hierarchy nor the Alliance have much to gain by this?”

“Who knows,” Galenus said and ate the last of his strips. “The newly formed war bands from Tuchanka? Facinus? The Hegemony? Cerberus? It could be a ny number of players.”

Garrus sat back and pushed his plate away.

“So many.. Who do you think it is?”

Galenus got up and placed a hand on his son’s cowl.

“I don’t know, son. I just don’t know.”

 

**2178 CE – February 16 th – The Citadel – Chellick’s apartment – 20:58 PM**

Shepard knew she was late. In fact, she’d known that for the last 45 minutes, but what the hell, right? Someone had to drink the hotel mini bar dry, might as well be her. She’d changed into loose sweatpants and a hoodie to cover up most of her face and that very revealing ear. Thankfully, no one in the street recognized her when she unsteadily got out of the skycar and tried to remember if Decian lived in apartment K or L. One more sip would help her remember. Probably. She swilled down a quarter of what remained in the bottle and decided for K. It was a good guess.

When Decian opened the door, he could scarcely meet her eyes. A great fucking sign, Shepard thought and took another quick drink from the small bottle clutched in her fist.

“Hi, you,” she said, hoping that he would hug her, smile or at least would look up.

He did neither, but instead silently led the way into the living room. Shepard didn’t bother with the pretense any longer and slumped down in the couch, drinking more warm booze. She felt numb. Decian fiddled with his talons, paced around in a small circle, then finally, gave voice to his inner turmoil.

“They say you killed everyone.”

She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the pain piercing through the alcohol induced numbness.

“Yeah? Weren’t you at the hearing? _They_ don’t have to say anything, I said it myself.”

“Dammit, that came out wrong. I meant.. I meant, it’s all over the news. Every turian at the station has been talking about it.”

“Glad to see your keeping busy.”

It was a stupid hurtful thing to say, but she was now fighting back drunken tears. Everything was catching up to her through the alcohol. The deaths, the killings, the hearing, and now this. Whatever this was.

“That’s not what I meant. They’re putting all the blame on you.”  
“Perhaps because I am to blame, Decian.”

He winced when she said his name. Fucking fantastic. She took yet another sip and smiled mirthlessly.

“Humans have a saying, you’ll never see a turian’s back until he’s dead, meaning they rarely ever retreat. I can vouch for that, they put up a good fight. It was them or us, leaving me little choice.”

“Jane, you don’t have to explain to me-...”

She waved him off.

“But I want to. I just lost Argyle. I was losing teammates by the minute. We had to break them, or be broken. I chose the former. I chose, and they died. Do you get that, Decian? They died! Not just the turians, oh no, I basically ordered all my human teams to their deaths too!”

Shepard stopped and took several deep breaths to calm herself. Decian took one step towards her, then remembered himself and stepped back. Shepard again fought against the burning sensation behind her eyes. This was really happening.

“I’ve done most of the talking so far. You say something,” she said and clutched the bottle like it was a life-vest.

“Jane, I.. with everything that’s happened, you must’ve considered..”

He stopped, paced a few more rounds, and tried again.

“What we have, I wouldn't.. I can’t..”

Again he stopped, pressed two talons against his voice box to stop the flanging from getting too high pitched.

“Spit it out,” she slurred. “I think I know what you want to say, but you better _fucking_ say it yourself! I won’t help you.”

It was Decian’s turn to breathe heavily, and he looked like he was in pain. _Good_ , a stray thought said in her head. He damned well deserved it.

Despite the fluctuating voice, he continued.

“I think.. that we should.. After Torfan.. You and me.. It.. It.. I want to break up. We can’t be together.”

The last two sentences shot out of his mouth like bullets , and Shepard felt something shatter inside. Like a mirror, splintering into tiny fractions, each reflecting but a piece of the whole as they spun around in darkness, tiny fractures of what had once been their love. She no longer bothered to hide her feelings as tears rolled down her cheeks. It was like being pushed out into an empty abyss, with no sound, just the sensation of slowly falling.

After a while, she noticed Decian staring at her, as if he wanted her to speak. She had nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was time to leave.

She stumbled up and began walking to the door.

“Wait! Aren’t you going to say something? Anything?”

She turned unsteadily and looked at him.

“Why? You’ve said it all. We’re done. It’s over.”

Again, it looked like her words hurt him, but she was beyond caring for his needs. He’d just ripped her heart out, and she knew his reasoning , but it still fucking hurt. There was no way she was going to stay and talk about his misery, when there was a dozen bars below them she could drink until morning cycle. She began walking again, and almost tripped over a shelf.

“Jane, you’re drunk, I can’t let you leave like this.”

Shepard laughed and sniffed.

“I haven’t even begun drinking yet, and you, as of 30 seconds ago are no longer in a position to intercede on my behalf.”

She got up on wobbly legs. At this moment she only hoped she could make it to Chora’s Den b efore her biotics burned the alcohol out of her system and she got her faculties back.

“Jane, please. Don’t go. I need you to understand.”

“I do understand, Decian. How about you try and understand why I don’t want to spend another moment in your company?”

She closed the door in his face, and never saw Decian Chellick sag to the floor, keening deeply and clutching his keel bone, hurting over a lover’s bond beginning to slowly disseminate. He’d renounced her, in word and deed, and now it was his turn to answer for his actions.

 

**2178 CE – February 22 nd – C-Sec – Zakera Ward Mess Hall – 09:01 AM**

Garrus was having a late breakfast and reading the latest incident reports when Cinna sat down beside him. He flared his mandibles at her, but she merely flicked hers in return.

“Have you seen Chellick?”

He put the datapad down with a puzzled look.

“Not the last week. Why?”

“I just thought you knew something, that’s all. Jarik says he saw him at the Food store yesterday, and he looked like he’d been sparring for days.”

“He always looks like that,” Garrus joked.

“Garrus, he’s your friend, isn’t he? I thought you’d be more sympathetic.”

“About what? Everyone can have a bad fringe day.”

Cinna stared at him.

“I meant that he’s recovering from severing bond s with his mate, Garrus. Don’t be obnoxious.”

His brain slowed to a grinding halt. Chellick. Bond. Broken. Jane. _Where was she?_ The more sensible part of him slapped the opportunistic creep down, but this.. This was big news. Then he realized his girlfriend was still staring at him.

“What? Chellick and I are not that close.”

“Garrus, I have to ask.. Are we serious? Or just casual?”

He blinked.

“You want to talk about that now? Quite the segue..”

“Well.. It’s just... You’re much younger than me, and I want to settle down sometime in the near future.”

“Garrus felt his fringe deflate considerably.

“Hah! I saw that! I thought as much anyway, and I’m not upset. I want _you_ not to be upset about the next part either.”

Something told him he was about to get dumped, but the prospect didn’t really phase him at all. Jane had no mate. Again he had to mentally slap himself for being a selfish idiot.

“Um, sure.” he told Cinna. “I’ll respect whatever you decide.”

She smiled at him.

“I’m glad you’re being such a good sport about this, Garrus. You see, some of the females have had their eye on Chellick for a while. He’s good looking, he rises fast, and he’s a proper turian, know what I mean?”

“Thank you,” Garrus replied sarcastically. “Never knew I was that low in your eyes.”

“Come on, it’ s not that. I’ve seen you cut corners to get results. Not saying it’s not effective, but if you do that too often, you’re going to get into trouble.”

“Maybe I like trouble.”

Cinna shuddered.

“That right there. It’s downright scary.”

After fluttering his mandibles for a while, he tried to sum up the conversation.

“So, you want to dump me to pursue Chellick, but you want us to remain friends, despite me being friends with Chellick?”

“Don’t make it sound tawdry, Garrus. You know what breaking the bond means. Better get out there and get another partner as soon as possible to alleviate symptoms.”

“Okay, that’s a little cold. You know the rebound mate rarely lasts.”

She leaned in and whispered in his ear.

“That’s why I’m going to let Barasa have first crack at him.”

Garrus sat back. Females were the scary ones, not him.

“All right, stop. I don’t want to hear about it. Do whatever you want.”

“Are we good, Garrus? I don’t want any bad blood between us.”

“Nope, we’re good. Just as long as I keep the good booth at the shooting range.”

“Agreed,” she smiled. “Now I have to go find out what I should send a heartbroken turian.”

Garrus watched her swaying hips as she left, but his mind wandered off to another. What did one do for a heartbroken human? Even if she was the sworn enemy of your people.

 

**2178 CE – February 22 nd – The Citadel – Shepard’s Hotel Room – 19:23 PM**

The face of an angry and upset Russian flickered on the screen while Shepard glued on her fake ear. For the last five minutes, Dmitri had been muted in all his anger and concern. Shepard didn’t want to deal with it today. Not when there was more drinks to be had.

She turned up the volume while the glue dried.

“Furthermore, what about people coming to see you? Captain uncle told me to come fetch you for that!”

“Tomorrow,” Shepard said lightly. “ David worries too much.”

“He thinks you need some days to unwind. He is wrong! You need time with family. That is us!”

“I need to get my mind off things.”

“Jane, I can have goons beat up your ex-bird, okay? Just come here. Inessa wants to see her aunt.”

“Don’t even try that wheedle, Basanov. That’s not fair. And no beating the bird. There’s been quite enough of that lately.”

“Jane, consider! Your face is all over news. It is not safe!”

“Has been so far.”

“O боже мой! There are rumors now!”

“I don’t speak Russian, that’s my mom.”

“I will come get you!”

“Can’t catch what you can’t see,” she said and emptied the last of her drink. “See you later.”

The last view on the screen was Dmitri’s narrow eyes, but she didn’t care. It was time to party like it was 2177, or any year before Torfan.

 

**2178 CE – February 22 nd – Flux – 21:21 PM**

Going dancing at a time like this was not one of the smartest things she’d done in her life, but Shepard didn’t care. She’d hoped the feeling of floating around in a vacuum would recede somewhat after a week, but if anything, she felt worse. Decian had left a hole in her psyche, and she had no idea on how to fill it, except with bars and booze. At this moment she’d even had enough drinks to convince her that heading out onto the dance floor was a good idea, despite it being filled with turians. Young, hot, hormonal turians. There was probably enough pheromones here to choke a krogan, but she wasn’t quite there yet, and contented herself to spastically flailing her arms and trying to move her legs with the music. It failed miserably, but with five Heatsinks, four Elasa, four horse chokers and two ryncol shots under her belt, she didn’t care. Her biotic metabolism kept thwarting her from blacking out entirely, but at least she could give it a shot. Haha, give it a shot, right. Like Argyle, right? Like…

She dropped her arms and walked slowly back to the bar, holding up two fingers. Remembering was bad for you.

When she lifted the glass to her lips, it was knocked away by a mauve-plated turian. Behind him were three of his companions.

“I know you,” he hissed. “How dare you show your face here?”

“Looks who’s talking about faces,” she snickered and downed her second drink quickly. “Yours is one only a vorcha could love.”

The turian stared at her in amazement. His posse should be enough to deter anyone from making threats, but not this one drunk human.

“You think you can take us all,” he snarled. “Murderer!”

Shepard blinked a few times, then piercing him with her gray bloodshot eyes.

“I’m the fucking Butcher of Torfan, I can cut through a battalion of turians. You lot is nothing more than a small breakfast. Dextro plates is half my diet. Fuck off!”

The young turian looked bewildered at his friends, but they patted him on the cowl and encouraged him to keep going.

“Oh yeah? Well, how about you prove it, pyjak!”

Shepard looked at him for a second, than made another bad decision.

“Okay.”

Then she slammed her fist on his nose, and they all heard the break.

“Murderer! Hey, the Butcher of Torfan is here,” one of the other turians shouted, and the music stopped.

“Where?”

“Is it really her?”

“Doesn’t look like her.”

“What are you talking about, it’s her!”

“Turn the music back on, who fucking cares!”

Shepard charged both her hands with biotic power when the asari bouncer grabbed her shoulder from behind.

“Oh no you don’t.”

She dragged her over the floor and outside while a security guard held back the other party-goers.

“You have to leave, Shepard. Yeah, I know it’s you. We didn’t mind when you kept a low profile, but now you assaulted one of our other guests, and everybody knows who you are. Leave. We’ll keep them back five minutes, but those boys will come looking for you.”

“Right,” Shepard said glumly. “We should’ve just fought it out in there.”

“Not in my place of work, human. Go!”

 

There was no point arguing further, and Shepard strolled along as best she could. She stopped by a kiosk and bought another bottle of alcohol, never even bothering to read the label. It didn’t matter. For a minute there, engaging in fisticuffs with that turian she’d felt elevated again, like a spark of life. Now, she was back on her downward spiral. She walked up from the lower wards an up to the presidium, swilling from the bottle like a pro. There was C-Sec HQ. There was the stupid fish-less lake. Whoever thought of that? A lake with no fish.

She recalled a very old memory from the bridge. She and Wreav were at some official function, and she’d confronted some guys tormenting a little turian. That was years ago. Wonder what became of the kid, Shepard thought and drank some more. Back then she wanted to help everybody. Now she knew that was an illusion. The Alliance was the Alliance, and the Hierarchy protected its own. No room for friends. No room for.. for.. She blocked out Decian’s face and drank like there was no tomorrow. Too bad the lakes didn’t have waves. There should be waves on water, she figured in her inebriated state. She could make waves. She was very good at that. If only she could stand up straight, that was. Shepard put the bottle gently down, and charged up her biotic powers.

 

**2178 CE – February 22 nd – C-Sec HQ – Armory – 22:45 PM**

"Garrus? Garrus, there you are.”

His boss came hurrying down the stairs.

“I know it’s the end of your shift, but can you do one last mission. Some human is causing a ruckus on the presidium bridge, using biotics to stir the water. I say stir, perhaps I should say flood.”

“Why can’t the guard go, or the new shift?”

“They’ve all been called down to a riot in Flux, and you know how that works,” his boss smiled. “Everyone volunteers for that one.”

“Sure,” Garrus said. “I’ll go have a word, but then I’m going home. I’ll write the report tomorrow.”

“Fair enough. Don’t think it’ll be much trouble, just tell them to stop and go home.”

“I’’ll take care of it, no problem.”

“Hey, heard about you and Cinna. Bad luck.”

Garrus shrugged.

“We settled it amicably. We wanted different things. Better for everyone.”

“Very sensible of you, Vakarian. Have a good one.”

“Sir.”

 

**2178 CE – February 22 nd – Presidium Lake – 23:02 PM**

From a distance, he could see the human throwing biotic charges in the water, making the lake roil and churn in an impressive display of powers. Manipulating objects, or in this case, water, was difficult for a biotic, and he’d only known one who was this proficient at it, but she was.. _Right here!_

“Jane!” he called, before remembering that calling out that particular name might not be such a good idea.

In any case, it appeared she hadn’t heard him, and sent another blast down into the water. Garrus watched awestruck as the water became a maelstrom under the bridge. The sight would have been really amazing if he hadn’t been tasked with putting an end to it.

“Jane,” he called out a little lower.

This time she heard him and turned around. When she recognized his face, she gave him a careful smile, and he couldn't help himself, he flared his mandibles wide like an idiot. The spinning water lost speed and the undertow drowned the whirl with a gushing sound.

“Garrush,” she said, speech slurring noticeably. “Howrr youh?”

When he got closer, the pungent smell of alcohol wafted around her.

“I’m fine, Jane. I need you to stop doing that.”

“No problem,” she said and swayed unsteadily. “For you, no problem.”

The alcohol and the biotic exertion was taking it’s toll on her, and she had a nosebleed. Garrus had seen that numerous times before, but this time, he acted without thinking and reached up and gently wiped it away with his thumb. Human blood smelled strange, but more importantly, she stood still and let him do it.

“Thanks,” she said and twitched her head. “Might overdid.. overdus.. overdone it.”

“Jane, it’s not safe for you here alone. Not at night. Come with me?” he said, trying to be calm.

He remembered how she’d saved him on this very bridge. This time, it was his turn.

“’kay.”

“Come with me? I can take you home, or you can sleep on my couch.”

“Shure.”

“Okay, which is it`”

Jane looked at him, bewildered. “Which is what?”

“Just how much have you had to drink? Never mind. Pull your hood down, like that, and follow me.”

“If you say so.”

That statement was followed by Jane sitting down and promptly falling asleep. Garrus looked around cautiously, before picking her up and hanging her over his cowl. He tried not to think too much about the warm human ass his hand rested on, but he was not about to leave Jane out here like this, and there was not a chance in the human’s hell that he would call her ex-boyfriend to come pick her up. He had a spare couch, and that was that. It was the right thing to do. If Jane thought he was a swell guy tomorrow, well.. That was just a happy coincidence.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can practically hear all the Shakarianites out there, rubbing their hands together in triumph..  
> Well.. Let me tell ya.. You're not out of the woods yet!  
> I have a lot of monkeys and a lot of wrenches, and I'm about to start throwing, nyah nyah nyah!
> 
> *Rolls around on the couch*


	71. Drunken nights and morning hangovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard makes a drunken move on Garrus, and he must decide what to do.

**2178 CE – February 22 nd – Garrus Vakarian’s Apartment – 23:59 PM**

Walking all the way home with a drunk human over his shoulder had caused people in the street to give him odd looks, but Garrus simply waved his badge and glared at them. Jane had occasionally woken up and wriggled in his arms, and at one point he could’ve sworn she groped his hind plates, which caused an unfortunate shift in his groin plates. It was only a few meters left before he was home, and he checked the surroundings to see if anyone observed him while carrying a semiconscious human into his apartment. His visor couldn’t pick up any life signals, and he hurried inside.

Jane had reached another lucid moment, and he carefully seated her on the couch and went to fetch her some water. When he returned, she was blinking and trying to determine where she was.

“Sorry about the mess,” he said and held out the water bottle. “Wasn’t expecting visitors.”

She glanced at the two pieces of armor on the table he was referring to, and shook his head.

“Mess, right,” she mumbled and took a sip. It was followed by a cough.

“Water?! Where’s the booze, Garrus?”

“All out,” he fibbed and sat down beside her. “How are you, Jane, really? After everything that has happened?”

She clutched the bottle and stared at a spot on the wall on the other side of the room.

“My friends are dead. I killed some of them. Can’t reach Castor. Don’t know what happened to Mevia or Aius. The Hierarchy has accused me of being a callous opportunistic killer, and my boyfriend dumped me. How are you?”

Garrus decided to try and cheer her up.

“I stubbed my talon on the doorstep this morning. Kinda hurt,” he said and fluttered his mandibles playfully at her.

There was no reply for several seconds while she stared at him. Then she smiled, began to laugh, and after ten seconds the laughter turned to tears.

That was not part of the plan. Garrus had no clue what to do now. He’d tried to lighten the mood, and instead he’d brought out the flood. Tears was often a sign of distress, he knew, but without subvocals, he had no idea how to proceed. Thankfully, he was rescued from misguided fumbling when she leaned into him and pressing her face on his shoulder, crying silently. Her fingers grabbed the straps on his uniform, and he moved so he could place an arm around her. She took this as encouragement, curled up beside him and latched on to him with both arms.

Garrus had no idea what to say to comfort her, and settled for leaning his crest on the top of her head.

The feeling of being home surged in his chest, that familiar bond they shared after Eden Prime. She was still that Jane. The Hierarchy might’ve done their best to smear her name, but when he saw her like this, he knew the stories weren’t accurate. Torfan had been a horrible mistake for everyone, and Jane weren’t the turian-hating monster they tried to make her out to be.

After some time had passed, Jane stopped crying and relaxed her breathing. He liked that his presence could help her in her present condition, but he’d also hoped it would last longer, selfish as he was. Not that he would prolong her sadness, just the time she hid in his arms.

“Better?” he said against her hair.

“A little. Thank you,” she mumbled and shimmied up. “I’m sorry about all this, Garrus. I never wanted to cause problems for you too.”

“It’s not a problem if it’s for a friend,” Garrus said and flared his mandibles.

Jane smiled a tentative smiled and met his eyes. Whereas Garrus had already felt the battle bond reassert itself, he could see Jane realize the same. Oh no, he thought. This was not the time for that. Not for her. Not with the bond she and Chellick shared was atrophying.

“Ahem, I might have to get some sheets for the couch,” he said and tried to get up, but Jane, like a sleepwalker, slowly reached out her hand and placed it on his mandible. _No no no no,_ the more sensible part of his brain said, but the selfish part of him screamed _yes!_

“Jane, this is perhaps not-..” he began, but Jane leaned forward and planted those soft lips on his mouth plates. He gasped and placed a hand on her thigh to push her away. Somehow, he never got to the ‘push-away’ part and she took this as an invite and slipped into his lap. Straddling him like she’d done so many times in his dreams, Garrus could hardly believe his bad luck. This was so not the day for bedroom shenanigans, neither in- or outside the bedroom. Somehow, these insights disappeared when his own tongue betrayed him and instead of speaking the words that would stop this, slipped out to meet hers. Spirits, how he wanted this, how he wanted _her_. He needed a small taste, just a tiny morsel. Her lips was like sweet drinks and warm promises, and Garrus had trouble remembering he was a decent guy at heart. Her hands caressed his mandibles, hooking her fingers gently behind them and holding him for the kiss, and he loved it and everything about her. He loved how her tongue played with his, changing from his mouth to hers in a merry battle for dominance and pleasure. He loved how warm she felt in his lap, the smell of human pheromones, becoming painfully obvious even to the dullest of turians as she writhed in his lap, directly above his pubic plates.

So what if she was losing her bond with Chellick, who cared? Perhaps it was different for humans? Maybe they didn’t need to flush their systems with some interlude partner? What if this was his _one_ chance?

In that same moment, Jane licked the sensitive hide on his neck, and Garrus jolted out of his daydreams when his cock poked past his plates. What was he doing? Not only was Jane drunk, she was in the middle of weaning herself from her existing bond! Spirits, he was such an idiot.

“Jane, stop.”

He unhooked her fingers from his mandibles, while trying not to meet her eyes. The hurt expression on her face was almost more than he could bear, but it was for the best. Garrus repeated that to himself when he carefully lifted her off and set her down on the couch.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll go find some sheets and a pillow. Wait here.”

Jane had returned to staring at the wall, and he hurried into his bedroom and began rummaging for the extra pillow and duvet he knew was in here somewhere. This was not the right time, he said to himself. Not the time to be selfish. After gathering everything he needed, Garrus had his arms full when he passed the mirror hanging on the wall. Spirits, his fringe hadn’t been scrubbed for days. He dropped everything on the floor and grabbed the small fringe brush from the night stand and brushed up a little, then met his own gaze in the reflection. What the fuck was he doing? He’s rebuffed her, but at the same time wanted to look handsome? Why had he refused to let it go further? She wasn’t an alien, maybe this was how they got over a breakup, by having sex with a friend. His pubic plates were still shifting, and Garrus knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he’d done something about that. So what if that was with Jane. She’d wanted him, and.. He blinked. She wanted him. Jane wanted to have sex with him. What in the actual fuck was he thinking? He’d waited for so long, why would he deny himself, or her, this opportunity. It was stupid!

He hurried back to the living room.

“Hey, Jane? I’ve changed my mind, you can.. Jane? Jane!”

She was no longer on the couch, and he looked around the apartment, in case she’d gotten lost or needed to use the bathroom, but she was gone. One of his datapads was ajar, and he picked it up and read the message. The keypad was in Palaveni, but Jane knew the language. At least she did when sober.

_‘Garus. Shoudln’t beeen here, shoudln’t have don that. Forgiv mi. Djane.’_

Garrus stared at the message and felt a rising frustration with himself and with Jane. Why couldn’t she just have waited. Why couldn't he just have taken the chance. Stupid human. Stupid turian. Now what was he going to do?

He barely noticed when he broke the pad in two.

 

**10 minutes earlier**

Shepard stared in disbelief at Garrus peeling her fingers away and setting her down on the couch like a small child. He looked embarrassed, and she felt a wave of shame wash through her as well. What the hell was she doing? He offered to let her stay at his place, and she tried to use him for sex just after breaking up with Decian? What sort of friend was she? Lusting after one of her best friends just because.. he was a turian? Was it that simple? Or was it that damn preference her old doctor Publius had told her about. Her biotic abilities were burning off alcohol much faster than she liked after she stopped imbibing.

Shepard tried to get up, and on the second attempt she managed to regain her balance. Leaving without saying something was a lousy thing to do, but hey, this evening was filled with lousy behavior on her part, why change a winning formula. On the table she spotted some datapads. A message wouldn’t be too cowardly, would it? Better he knew she regretted what she’d done. Jane Shepard’s apology tour, why not.

The datapad had turian keys, and she tried to type an understandable message, but she was still a little woozy. After placing it down a little further away from the others, she snuck out and left the place without making another sound. Once outside, she hailed a skycar. After a moment of deliberation, she decided against returning to her hotel. She really didn’t want to drink where she lived.

“Chora’s Den,” she typed in the display. This night was already ruined. If she drank a little more, perhaps she wouldn’t remember too much of it tomorrow.

 

**2178 CE – February 23 rd – Chora’s Den – 02:16 AM**

Her hood was covering most of her face and she’d readjusted the clip-on ear before entering the rowdy bar. The music was exceedingly loud and the dancers scantily clad, just like she’d expect from this place. Making her way to the bar, she sat down beside a dark-plated turian. It was hard to tell which color he really was from the swirling neon lights, but he had about seven empty glasses in front of him. When he glanced at her, she recognized him as Oraka, the old turian general haunting the consort Sha’ira. He did a double take as he recognized her, and they stared at each other over an abyss of pain. Then he blinked and returned to his drinks, while she lifted three fingers to the bartender. No reason to start small, this was a continuation. To her left, a krogan grinned at her and turned to type a message on his omni-tool. At least he wasn’t looking for a fight.

After 25 minutes, she was on a rising high and was comfortably numb again. No Decian, no Garrus, no nagging Dmitri, just her and a tray of-..

“Hey! You!”

Shepard swung around slowly and tried to focus.

“Butcher!”

It was the turian from Flux, and this time he had more than three friends with him.

“Been looking for you,” he hissed. “Think you can get away from me?”

“Obviously, I could, since it took you half the night to find me,” she said with a shrug. “Piss off.”

“Oh, no, I won’t. Brought some friends. Think you can cut through all of us?”

“Sure. But I’ll let you live if you leave now.”

“Nice try, butcher, but we have some tricks of our own.”

He nodded to someone beside her, and a cream-plated turian swung a thick beer glass at her face. It didn’t break, but it cut her eyebrow open all the same.

“Yeah, take that, killer.”

Shepard shook her head and blinked, before her arm shot out with a biotic charge and sent the glass-wielder flying through the air, knocking down one of the asari strippers.

“Get her, guys!” the turian firebrand shouted, and they all piled on her.

Normally, she could manage a crowd with her biotics, but drunk as she was she received several painful blows that disrupted her concentration, and she soon found herself on the floor. They took turns kicking at her, and while her shield blocked some, most of them connected in some way or another. In a drunken haze it dawned on Shepard that she might get killed in a bar brawl instead of the battlefield. Above the din there was suddenly several loud roars and snarls, followed by yelps and squawks as more turians were hurled around the room. A rhythmic thumping was heard even from her low position when tons of jackbooted krogans marched in and began dispersing the crowd with extreme prejudice.

“Where is she? ” she heard one of the krogans bellow.

“Find her!”

“Where is my krantt? WHERE!?”

The last word was roared over the music, and the bar went silent. When nobody said anything, the krogans continued stomping and headbutting their way to the center of the turians. They pulled the circle apart with ease and found her on the ground, cut and bruised, but still conscious.

“Shepard!”

“Skogan?”

She hardly recognized him. The small krogan with aspirations of becoming a scholar was hovering over her, looking like a warlord in the making.

“Found her!” he shouted triumphantly and pulled her up. “Who started this?”

Shepard spat blood, and he waited until she could speak again.

“That one,” she said and pointed to her stalker.

“Let me see,” he said and inspected her face. “Oh, this will not go well for you, turian. Hurting one of mine.”

“One of yours?” the turian said aghast. “She’s a damn human.”

“And you’re one of the pathetic turians,” Skogan snarled and grabbed the turian’s collar. “Fifteen turians against one human female? Guess that’s why you lose every war where you need to fight on your own, eh?”

“You lizard brained mo -..”

The rest of the sentence was cut off by a headbutt, and the crunching sound of a nose plate was heard around the room. The turian was out cold.

“Anyone with a fringe better be gone when I turn around,” Skogan called out. “We brought fringe hammers!”

Dozens of feet stampeded out the door, and Skogan grinned proudly at her.

“I did take those fighting lessons,” he said. “These are my boys. They can read too. Wrex sent us here for an education after our Rite of Passage. We’re here to rebuild Tuchanka.”

“And to beat up rude turians,” one of them growled behind him. “Wrex said to keep an eye out for you if we saw you.”

Shepard scanned the crowd of krogans. They were big, sure, but not the monstrous size of, say, Wrex or Wreav. Was this the new krogan intelligentsia? How times changed.

“Thanks, boys,” she manage to croak. “Does it look bad? Think I need a doctor?”

“Don’t know about that,” Skogan said. “He told us to bring you straight back to him.”

“Him? Who?” Shepard said, immediately suspicious.

“Basanov. He’s set up a school stipend for us, good man, and he’s investing on Tuchanka. He said you were doing stupid things because of a broken heart.”

“Dmitri? Gods, nooo...”

“The very one. Sorry, Shepard, but you’re done for tonight. Too much alcohol is bad for you anyway. I’ve read some human biology books, and actually-..”

She groaned inwardly, but followed them without further arguments. Not that it would’ve worked anyway, since they formed a phalanx around her and marched her all the way back to Dmitri’s place. They would need an entire flotilla of skycars to fit all of them, and the walk was supposed to burn away some liquor, or so Skogan told her in his long monologue over there. She’d forgot how much he loved to talk. And talk. And talk.

When they reached Dmitri’s apartment complex, Skogan called him and he came running down to the reception, exchanged a few words with the krogans and then turned his attention to her.

“Jane, what did I say? You..”

That was all she heard before her brain had reached its maximum capacity and blacked out.

 

**2178 CE – February 23 rd – Dmitri’s Place – 10:05 AM**

For the last half hour Shepard had laid completely still, trying to avoid moving her head or any other part of her body. The lurking headache in the back of her brain waited to pounce on her if she dared to open her eyes, and the beating she took at Chora’s Den was beginning to develop into large bruises. Not that she’d seen them, but she felt it all the more. The position she had was almost comfortable, and she groaned when she heard the door open and footsteps approach the bed.

“I told you so,” Dmitri said sternly. “Never listen to friend.”

“Mercy,” she muttered. “I’m not feeling too good.”

“You feel as you look, I would imagine.”

“Dmitri! Don’t be rude,” Eriela said, having arrived with a cooing baby on her arm. “Jane, I brought some water.”

“She does not deserve it,” Dmitri said, but nevertheless took the bottle from his wife and handed it over.

“Pain blockers?” Shepard asked hoarsely.

“Not before you’ve been to the doctor, I’m afraid. I think I know part of the problem,” Eriela said. “I dated a turian once.”

“Do not want to hear,” Dmitri said.

“Close your ears, sweetheart. Jane, I think you have some sort of withdrawal. The bonding between turians are complicated affairs, and even more so when other species get involved. We need an expert.”

“He’s not here,” Shepard said and rolled to her side, trying to drink.

“I don’t know who you mean, but doctor Mordin Solus has returned to the station a few months ago. The guy is famous for his skills.”

“And talking,” Shepard said with closed eyes. “I can’t believe you called Skogan on me.”

“I cannot be everywhere, Jane, and he was happy to help.”

“You’re investing on Tuchanka now?”

“I have nose for business, Jane. With the krogans, I said I knew you, and they became.. less hostile.”

“Right.. Mooching off my connections.”

“Yup. Now throw water in face and get up. Before you see doctor, you must see other people.”

Shepard opened one crusted eye and gazed at him.

“Who?”

Dmitri and Eriela exchanged looks, before he answered.

“Ivar Argyle’s parents. Captain Anderson told them you would talk to them.”

“Oh no.. Not that.. Anything but that..”

“I am sorry, Jane, but they will be here in ten minutes. Get ready.”

He dropped some clean civvies on the bed, and they left her with the dawning realization that this morning might be just as awful as the night before.

 

**2178 CE – February 23 rd – Dmitri’s Place – 10:45 AM**

She’d cleaned up as best she could, but the bruises on her face and the bloodshot eyes told a very vivid tale of what she’d been up to lately. Dmitri showed in a middle aged couple, the man was as wide shouldered as Argyle had been, but slightly hunched from a long life of hard work, and his wife walked beside him with her arm under his for support. They looked tired.

“Mr and Mrs Argyle, I.. I wish we met under better circumstances.”

The man held out his hand and Shepard shook it firmly.

“Please, it’s Ian and Gwyn. We’re grateful you’re taking time to see us.”

The man gave her a small glance, taking in the new wounds and the cut ear.

“I can see that Ivar’s description of you wasn’t an exaggeration. You look ready to fight at a moment’s notice. Been grieving in your own way, I think. ”

“Ian!” Gwen said with a small smile. “We’ve only just met, be polite.”

“That’s no problem, mrs… uh, Gwen. He sounds much like Argyle. I mean Ivar. And please, say Jane.”

The pair of them smiled at her, but Shepard saw the sadness they carried with them.

“Listen, can we talk here? Is it safe?” Ian said.

Shepard gave him a surprised look.

“Uh, yeah. This is a private home, no Alliance, if that’s what you mean?”

“Good,” Gwen said and motioned to the table. “Can we sit?”

“Sure.”

When they were seated, Shepard noticed that the pair of them looked nervous.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?” she said.

“Like you probably know, we’re here to take Ivar’s body back to earth for a burial on Earth. The ceremony here was just fine, but we.. we want him to rest in our ancestral burial ground.”

“I understand,” Shepard said.

“When we were gathering his belongings from his apartment, we came over some.. strange things.”

Shepard went stiff. _Turian things._

“And then.. then we found his will. Most soldiers make one, in case something happens to them. It seems.. it seems Ivar got married.”

There was no telling what his parents knew or knew not, and Shepard merely waited for the reveal.

“To a turian,” Gwen said quietly. “We never knew. But we think you might.”

She raised her head and gave a short nod.

“Yes, I knew. They met at Gagarin. Fought like cat and dog in the beginning, and even worse when they dated. Always bickering, always sticking up for one another. I’ve rarely seen a pair so in tune with each other.”

Gwen tried to suppress tears while she smiled and sniffled.

“Told you the boy had a mind of his own,” Ian said as he wiped a discreet tear away.

“You’re not angry?” Shepard said.

“We were shocked at first,” Ivar admitted, “then we saw these.”

He handed Shepard a datapad, and she flipped through some of the first images. It was from Gagarin, the wedding, images of Mevia and Argyle hugging and watching a vid, just regular home life, like any other couple. The happiness coming off Argyle in these holos were obvious. It was her turn to wipe a quick tear away.

“He said in his will that he loves this girl like I love his mother,” Ian said. “Can’t really fault the boy for following his heart, but a turian..”

“And then Torfan,” Gwen said. “We saw her name on the turian side, what happened? Do you know anything?”

Shepard hesitated. Whatever Mevia had done, his parents did not need to know. Argyle wouldn't have wanted that, she thought.

“Mevia was there,” Shepard said. “She knows Ivar is dead. From what little I know, she.. she didn’t take it well. Turians are different when it comes to marriage and mates. They get so connected with their life- partners, a loss feels like a small death, I’ve heard.”

“Oh,” Ian said. “ Poor lass.”

“The thing is,” Gwen said, “Ivar wanted us to keep in contact with her, if he should fall. She was his family, like we were. We realize that after Torfan, that might be difficult, but it was his wish. He said he meant to tell us when relations between us and the turians improved, but now..”

“I understand,” Shepard said. “I’ll try to deliver the message. If I can find her.”

“Thank you,” Ian said.

Shepard heard that the elderly man struggled not to cry over his lost son.

“Could you give her this?”

He held out a datapad and a ring. It was Argyle’s wedding ring, one of the special pair he had made for Mevia and him.

“Tell her, she’s welcome to visit any time. We don’t care what the Alliance says, our son’s wife will always be welcome at our home.”

His wife tried to stroke his arm, but Ian got up quickly and cleared his throat.

“We’ve taken up far too much of your time already. I know you were his friend, Jane. You’re welcome too. Any time.”

Shepard found herself in a hug, and she hugged the grieving man back. Gwen was crying openly, and when her husband released Shepard, she took his place.

“Tell her we’d like to meet her,” she whispered in Shepard's ear.

She could only nod, and the pair of them tried to smile and waved as they left. The ring felt cold in her hand, a reminder of a lost friend, but a promise was a promise. Where was the last members of Four?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, it sucks to be a good guy, then be overcome with lust only to discover that the lady has vanished. Come on, let's all say it; Poor Garrus..
> 
> Another early delight, because guess what, I'm back on overtime. Joy of joys..


	72. Pain and secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard visits the hospital, and Garrus wants to have "the talk."

**2178 CE – February 23 rd – Zakera Medical Clinic – 12:12 PM**

“This is for the best, Jane.”

Eriela kissed her daughter’s fringe as the child waved and burbled at everyone passing by them. Shepard grinned and jiggled a small stuffed krogan in front of Inessa, making her niece squeal with delight.

“If Dmitri saw you doing that, he’d think you were trying to corrupt his daughter,” Eriela said smilingly.

“Maybe I am,” Shepard said. “That’s what aunts are for, and some krogans are pretty cute.”

Inessa cooed at the stuffed toy and hugged it hard.

“I think she agrees with you.”

“’Course she does. I have such an impeccable taste in males.” Shepard’s smile faltered, but she tried to sound upbeat. “Still, the good doctor Mordin might have a pill for that.”

“Jane, breaking a bond is never easy. I’ve done that myself once, about 70 years ago. I still remember how hard it was.”

“70 years ago? That’s… wow..”

Eriela laughed.

“Yes, and no old-jokes, please. I’m still young for my people.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

“The doctor will see you now,” a familiar voice said from the counter, making Shepard jump up.

“Ravarn!”

The salarian glanced around the room carefully, then quickly laid a finger over his lips as if by mistake. She closed her mouth and nodded.

“Right. Uh, my appointment?”

“Follow me.”

Ravarn was unusually quiet, and Shepard had a hard time deciding between prying or waiting. When they stopped in front of Mordin’s office, he turned to face her.

“Stop by medical supplies later for your prescriptions. Just to check, in case. You know how these things are, can’t be too sure. Gotta go, busy, busy, busy.”

“Ravarn...”

Shepard watched his back as he disappeared in the corridor. She’d been too preoccupied with herself to consider that Ravarn would know the whereabouts of Castor. Turning back to the door, she knocked and entered.

On the other side of the room, Mordin was refilling one of his little jars of horrors with what she assumed was some sort of conserving agent.

“Ah, Shepard. Welcome. Sit, sit, have only one more to do. Lid became unsealed, some fluids evaporated. Need to take care of. Done. How can I help?”

The good doctor placed the small glass container back on the self and smiled at her. For some reason, Shepard was confident he wouldn’t judge her for her current affliction.

“I’m.. I was in a relationship with a turian up until recently,” she began, but he held up a hand.

“How recent?”

“A week or so. The thing is-..”

“Bonded, yes?”

“Uh, yeah. When we, well, he ended our relationship, I-..”

“Wait.”

Shepard gave him an exasperated look. “What?”

“Must confess something. Might be upsetting. Former station doctor of Gagarin station is close friend of mine. You know him as Protus Publius. Took brain scans and other tests to monitor turian-human coupling. Strange results. Asked for second opinion from best medical mind in existence. Mine.”

“That’s.. humble of you. When you say ‘I know him as..’”

“Humility overrated. Publius realized he needed my help. Someone else might get it wrong. Condition unusual in humans. For turians, not so much. Please sit.”

He pointed at an examination table, and Shepard sat down obediently. Mordin opened a cabinet and took out more blood sample vials and syringes, as well as other small instruments Shepard was loathe to think too much about.

“Need to take samples for comparison and affirmation,” he said. “Results will most likely confirm suspicions carried for a while.”

“What suspicions are those?”

“Publius’ first assumption correct, bonding agent in turians caused new neural pathways to form in brain. Constant feedback of said agent generates grand neural pathway and lay grounds for preference in future. Removal of same agent causes dip in feedback loop. Body tries to compensate, and fails. Causes pain, drop in serotonin levels, lower output of dopamine and slew of other symptoms similar to detoxification while body tries to regain homeostasis. Very painful in turians, unknown result for humans. Most likely could trigger depression, anxiety, mood swings and dependency on other substances to cope.”

Shepard blinked and tried to keep up.

“Oh.. So.. Not good, then.”

“No.”

“Right. Any advice?”

“Shepard, please. Am professor, have studies other species extensively. Always searching for solutions to new problems.”

“Okay..”

“In your case, turian problem, turian solution. Have sex.”

“Uuhh.. Care to elaborate a bit? That sounds rather callous.”

“Hormone system saturated by bonding agent with decaying strength. Needs good flush. New release of dopamine from new source will likely mitigate symptoms. Probably not good idea to use new turian with long term intentions. Could get mixed signals, new bonding agent react with old one, causing repelling for new _and_ old agent.”

“Sex?” Shepard said with a raised eyebrow. “Is that all you think about?”

“Shepard, really. Salarians have extremely low sex drive. Some aberrant, like young friend of yours, but otherwise, sex mainly for propagation of species. Not for amusement! Unthinkable.”

Shepard pursed her lips together in a desperate attempt not to laugh. She had to ask Ravarn later if all salarian were this puritanical. After regaining some control, she turned serious.

“So, sex? Can’t you give me a pill, or some salve or something instead?”

“Natural remedy more likely to work. Will take tests, and if result merit synthetic medicinal use, will notify. Would not recommend self-medication by other means. No excessive alcohol consumption. Might replace one addiction for another. Unwise.”

She rolled her eyes. “Great. Take away my one source of comfort.”

Doctor Mordin burrowed his big black eyes in her.

“Sex before alcohol! That is prescription. Would not be you, if found out otherwise.”

The dark stare made her flinch.

“All right, all right. Geez.. You can be a little scary, you know that?”

“Acknowledged,” Mordin said with some satisfaction. “Good for patients’ hearing.”

“Right..”

“Sit still. Need several vials, then new scan.”

Shepard eyed the numerous needles on the tray and sighed. What she wouldn't do for science..

 

**2178 CE – February 23 rd – Zakera Medical Clinic – 14:31 PM**

The numerous needle pricks on her arm itched, and Shepard rubbed her arm to make it go away. Doctor Mordin had taken what he needed and nudged her out of the door to start his research. She didn’t mind much, since she had to find another salarian on the clinic. Outside the medical supply counter she tapped the glass and peered inside.

“Ravarn? You there?”

“Here. Come,” a voice said inside and opened the door.

She entered quickly and closed it behind her.

“Do you where Castor is?”

Ravarn smiled and stepped aside. Behind him, dressed in civvies and a bandaged waist, Castor stood with flared mandibles. Shepard didn’t even hesitate, she grabbed him for a hug.

“Gods, it’s so good to see you.”

He hummed and hugged her back.

“I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to see you, but the captain said no. The hearing, I meant to-..”

“It’s all right. I understand. Politics, not your fault.”

Castor relaxed his shoulders.

“Thank you for understanding. They gave me no choice.”

“Yeah, well.. Fuck them. Are the other ones here? Mevia? Aius?”

Castor glanced at Aius with an apologetic look.

“He’s been ordered not to reveal their whereabouts,” Ravarn said. “Whoops, would you look at this? Room charts? How irresponsible of me. So much to do, must’ve slipped my mind, not to keep these ones under lock and key. Whatever shall become of me?”

“An even greater guy than you are now,” Shepard said and glanced at the chart. “They’re both here?”

“Yes. Aius is still kept in a medically induced coma. His damages are.. For him to be awake at this point, it would cause needless physical and emotional stress for him.”

“They can’t operate?”

“They can, but.. Everything is on hold, by order of the primarch. He is stable, and as such, not prioritized. The cosmetic damage would not be prioritized for years. He could lose one of his fringe horns, but it’s not life threatening.”

Shepard exhaled deeply and rubbed her eyes.

“How about a private clinic?”

“Expensive,” Ravarn said. “I could probably get a friend of mine from medical school to do some work cheaper as a favor, but still.. It would take close to 100 000 credits.”

She stroked her fingertips against the fabric of her shirt. That was an enormous sum, but.. She still had her signing-on bonus from the Alliance, and the months of back pay from when she was in captivity on Korlus, not to mention that she rarely spent money on anything beside models, glue and the occasional takeout order. If she remembered correctly, 87 000 credits were sitting in her account just now.

“Does he have family? Anyone who can chip in? I think I can afford about 87% of that sum, but for the rest...”

Castor gasped. “What? You’re actually paying for Aius?”

“I’ll pay what I can, Castor, but I’m not made of money, and this is personal. I’m responsible, I should at least pay for a friend myself.”

“Castor and I will chip in for the rest,” Ravarn said. “We only spend money on sex toys anyway.”

That made Shepard chuckle a little, and caused Castor to wince.

“Then it’s settled. Can I see him? And Mevia?”

“Ravarn, can you take her? I can’t be seen with you there, in case we’re spotted.”

“I understand, don’t worry about it. Just take care of them when I leave, okay?”

Castor smiled. “I’m the medic, I take care of everyone I can.”

“Bye, my friend. Hope we meet under better circumstances next time.”

“So do I. Goodbye, Shepard.”

 

She followed Shepard to the intensive ward, but they couldn't enter Aius’ room, only look through the glass door. He was in isolation because of the risk of infection, but Shepard could see the bandages and the blue seepage. Ravarn again uncharacteristically said nothing when she cleared her throat and gave a short sniff.

“He can’t die on me,” Shepard said. “Keep an eye on him for me.”

“Aius won’t lack for anything in my power to provide,” Ravarn said and patted her shoulder. “I think his chances are good, and they got a lot better five minutes ago.”

“He’s one of mine,” she said simply. “I had to do something.”

“I hope you can do something for the next one as well. Your female friend hasn’t spoken to anyone since Torfan. Quite shell-shocked. Not a word, not a warble, only a low sad thrum. Nothing Castor or the doctor said have breached that wall. Hopefully, you can.”

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up, but I’ll try.”

“Can’t ask for more. Come.”

 

They passed by several rooms with other injured turians, and Shepard pulled her hood further down to hide her face. Nobody took notice of her, and the one time they were stopped, the patient asked all questions to Ravarn. The further inside the hospital they went, the more hot and sweaty her palms became. The thought of seeing Mevia again was terrifying.

“Here we are,” Ravarn said. “ Just message me when you want to leave.”

The door was big and heavy, but it swung open silently. Shepard stepped inside, and Ravarn closed it behind her. The room itself was almost empty. A small table, a cot and a small couch placed in front of a large holo-screen. The screen was a picturesque overview of a cliff side view on Palaven, judging by the two moons in the sky.

Mevia was sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the image.

“Mevia?”

No reply.

“Hi, Mevia. How are y-.. no, never mind that.”

Shepard walked over and studied her friend’s face. She was transfixed at the two moons, and Shepard tried to see what she did. Two moons in the starry sky, one following the others orbit forever. On Mevia’s finger, Shepard also saw the wedding band given to her by Argyle. She kept spinning it around, and the soft hide had blue stains where the friction had caused bleeding. Without waiting for approval which might never came, Shepard gently sat down beside Mevia. The shift in weight of the couch caused the turian to bump into her shoulder. That broke the reverie. She blinked and pulled her gaze away from the screen to Shepard.

“Hi, Mevia.”

Mevia opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again. She averted her eyes and gave what sounded like a small hoot. Shepard had never heard anything like it before.

“I’m so sorry for your loss. Never got to say that on Torfan.”

The reply was a low sad thrum.

“Yeah, I know. I miss him too.”

Another long hoot.

“Ivar’s parents came to see me.”

Shepard saw Mevia tense.

“They wanted to tell me that they’d read Ivar’s last will and testament. He told them he had a mate.”

There was no reply, but Mevia blinked rapidly.

“And they know she was turian. They were surprised at first, but.. then they saw the holos of you two.”

Mevia began to rock gently to and fro, but Shepard scooted closer and pulled her close.

“Hey, come on. Come here.”

She didn’t resist, and leaned on Shepard's shoulder, quiet and shaking.

“They wanted you to have these,” Shepard said and pulled a small bag out of her jacket pocket, then placed a datapad in Mevia’s hands.

“And this.”

She pulled out Argyle’s wedding band, hanging from a string.

“Ivar,” Mevia whispered and tried to grab the ring. She missed, and her talons tore the string, making the ring fall to the floor and twirl around in a circle.

“Ivar,” she thrummed, pain visible on her brow.

“That’s okay, I’ll get it,” Shepard said and reached out her hand, lifting the ring with biotic force. She didn’t want to let go of Mevia now that she’d made contact.

“Here.”

The ring dropped in Mevia’s hands, and she fumbled around almost dropping it a second time before she managed to put it on her other hand.

She lifted both arms and stared at the rings, then at Shepard.

“He’s dead,” she said slowly. “These hands killed him.”

“We didn’t know. You didn’t know. And his parents doesn’t know. I didn’t tell them.”

“Why,” Mevia asked hoarsely. “I did it.”

“Because Ivar wouldn’t want me to. He loved you, Mevia. In his will, he stated that he was going to introduce you to his parents. They want to meet you.”

Mevia closed her eyes and leaned on her shoulder.

“No, Shepard, please, no.”

“Nobody’s gonna force you, but they wanted me to convey the message. You’d always be welcome in their home back on earth. You’re part of their family now.”

Mevia began to warble, and Shepard tried to stroke her cowl, but it was an awkward position. The turian didn’t even seem to notice.

“He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone.”

“Yes. But you’re not. And I’m not.”

“Sometimes.. Sometimes I wish I’d killed you instead. I’m so sorry...He was my mate..”

Mevia’s talons was tearing through her jacket, but Shepard sat still and let her say what she’d been carrying alone for so long.

“Shh.. I can take it.”

“He loves-.. he loved me! I never told him enough, I never called him enough.. And he loved me anyway...”

“He did.”

“I can’t face his parents. I don’t want to look at myself, much less them.”

“It’s up to you.”

“Why are you being nice to me? I killed your friend!”

“You’re my friend too, Mevia. And Ivar would’ve punched me in the nose if I did otherwise.”

Shepard could hear Mevia’s voice crackle when she tried to speak. After three attempts, she gave up and began to warble loudly again.

“I know,” she said and patted Mevia’s cowl. “I know.”

 

**47 minutes later**

Shepard sat with Mevia until she’d exhausted herself through turian crying and almost collapsed in Shepard’s arms. With some skillful maneuverings, Mevia ended up on her cot and tucked in under a blanket. Shepard really should’ve said her farewells, but there was no way she was waking her friend up from that just to satisfy her own conscience. Mevia had enough problems, and rest was the best thing for her. After placing the datapad on the small table, Shepard checked on Mevia one more time after messaging Ravarn.

The scout had balled up as best a turian could with her fist wrapped around the finger that held Argyle’s ring. Shepard sighed. The parents’ contact info was on the datapad. It was time to leave before she was discovered.

 

* * *

 

 

“Did she say anything?” Ravarn asked.

“Yes. Took a while, mind you. She keeps everything bundled inside.”

“Strange how that doesn’t work,” Ravarn said with a sideways glance at her.

“Stop it.”

“I hear things,” Ravarn continued. “Chellick is single again.”

“Yeah, so?”

Ravarn sighed. “Fine. I won’t ask, but remember, I’m your friend too. Not just Castor, and Aius, and the others. I’d like you to stay alive, okay? Castor won’t take well to losing more friends either. He’s being very ‘turian’ about it, but I know. I hear him talk in his sleep. Torfan took a lot from him, as it did you. Please don’t drop off the map again.”

“Hey, there’s the fast talking salarian I love,” Shepard said smiling. “I’ll try, for you guys.”

“Talked less after Torfan,” Ravarn said. “Castor needed the silence. And get laid, Shepard. I know about turian bonds. Pick some gorgeous army boy and fuck his brains out.”

“Sex advice from you too? Really?”

“And stay safe,” Ravarn winked and gave her a small packet. “Please take your krogan with you, he’s scaring the patients.”

“Right.. Will do. See you, Ravarn. Tell Castor I said bye.”

“Sure. Fare well, Shepard.”

 

* * *

 

 

Outside, Skogan was reading on his datapad while waiting for her. He looked up, and sure enough, his scaly face broke into a huge grin. Shepard shuddered. She knew what came next.

“But, soft! what _light through yonder window_ breaks?”

“It’s a door, Skogan, not a balcony, and I want to go back to the hotel now. Can’t take much more of this today.”

Skogan swiped on his datapad.

“Great love, you believe, carries the seeds of great sorrow.”

Shepard glared at him. “Don’t you dare speak about my love life through that old poet.”

“What? Shepard, this is art! Perhaps the greatest conceived by your species. Can we go to the Hamlet play again?”

“You’re free to go, any time.”

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?”

“I’ll paint your hump yellow, you crazy krogan.” Shepard muttered as she marched back to the hotel. She’d paint in advance for the next week, but after that, her credit chit was blown. Poor Aius…

“Jane! Thought I’d find you somewhere near here.”

Garrus had arrived, slightly out of breath.

“Look, we need to talk.”

“Oh gods, not again. Sorry, Garrus, but I can’t take another one of those conversations, I said I was sorry and-..”

“No, not that. Or at least, not like you think. Can you, uh, can you send the krogan away?”

Skogan swiped the datapad some more. “ Good night, good night, parting is such sweet sorrow?” he said to Garrus.

“Yeah, something like that,” Garrus nodded eagerly.

“Forget it. I’m Shep’s bodyguard, creeper. Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of me.”

Garrus glanced at Shepard. “Really?”

“Afraid so. Dmitri is paying him to watch over me, and he’s taken that all to literally.”

“Right. Well.. About last night. You don’t have to be sorry. You were drunk, and things.. happened. Then they stopped happening. No harm, no foul.”

“Fowl is another word for bird, you know,” Skogan said. “Did you climb a bird’s nest when it was dark?”

“Skogan, one more Shakespearean word out of you, and I’ll push you in the lake. Sorry about that, Garrus. He’s gone completely nuts after seeing that elcor play.”

Garrus laughed, and Shepard chuckled with him. Skogan merely continued reading as they walked onward.

“I don’t mind. He’s being a good friend. Which I wasn’t yesterday. I had the best intentions, but.. well.. Temptation fell into my lap.”

“I remember,” Shepard said. “I was pretty handsy with you.”

“Not complaining about that, but this is not the time. Jane, when turians.. when they part ways, they need to get over their partner. I don’t know how to say this delicately.”

“You don’t have to. My doctor explained it to me in nauseating detail.”

“Oh.. Right.. So then you know. I don’t want to be _that_ guy.”

“Yeah, I know.”

She stopped.

“That guy?”

“Jane, we can talk about that later. Right now I just want to make sure that we’re good, and you won’t stop answering my messages.”

Shepard looked at him with a confused expression, and the krogan used the moment to step in.

“I believe he meant to say: _I would I were thy bird._ See, the Bard knows everything.”

“Skogan!”

“Skogan!”

The krogan gave the pair of them an unimpressed stare.

“So much fiddle faddle with humans or turians. I prefer asari. And Urdnot Rekka. She’s magnificent. Hump as big as an elcor’s butt.”

Garrus closed his eyes.

“Nope, cannot unsee that in my head. Thanks.”

“Neither can I. Just read that damn play and do NOT quote any more!”

“Cultural primitives,” Skogan growled, but put the datapad away.

“So.. We’re good?” Garrus said and wiggled his mandibles at Shepard.

“We’re good. Truth be told, I’m glad you’re not upset.”

“We’ve been through worse. I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m already late for my shift. Had to catch you in person, since you’re not answering your omni-tool.”

A quick check confirmed his comment, the omni-tool was set to silent.

“Must’ve done it sometime last night.”

“And still managed to get into another fight. Some of my friends at C-Sec said there was a krogan riot at Chora’s Den last night, after you left my place, with a human instigator.”

“Ahem.. Rumors and speculation.”

“Mhm. Catch you later, Jane.”

“Later, Garrus.”

 

Skogan came up beside her as she watched him leave.

“He wants to have sex with you,” the krogan said with wide nostrils. “Stinks of pheromones.”

“He’s a turian, they want to have sex with everyone. And he said no last night.”

Skogan gave her a sideways glance.

“Sometimes, you can be rather slow, Shepard.”

 

**2178 CE – February 23 rd – Dmitri’s place – 18:03 PM**

“Thanks for inviting me to dinner,” Shepard said as the last dinner plate was placed in the dishwasher. “I’m not really rolling in credits at the moment.”

“Need to borrow some?” Dmitri said with his back turned, stacking glasses and cutlery in the machine.

“No, I’m good for a week or so. Thinking about taking a vacation back on earth. Seems safest, since the Hierarchy and the Alliance thinks we’re gonna start blowing each other to pieces soon.”

“Jane..”

“Not kidding. Seriously, have there ever been a crisis like this since the first contact war? Not even my mother managed this, and now most turians hate me.”

“Not all,” Dmitri said with a smile.

“Nah, but they don’t count. It’s all the other ones. Imagine if Fedorian sent everyone after me? The Spectres in his debt, Blackwatch, his personal guard.. I’d be dead in a week.”

Dmitri closed the washer and stood up.

“This really worries you?”

“Yeah. I mean, if they decide to get rid of me, there’s not much anyone can do. I might as well retire now and go back to earth.”

He stared at her for a little too long for comfort, then took her hand.

“Come with me.”

“What? Gonna push me out the window before they can?”

“Haha, funny. They are not all out to get you, and I can prove it. But, you must never speak of this again.”

“Okay...”

Their walk stopped outside a massive black steel door, and Dmitri used a retinal scanner and a fingerprint ID to open it.

“This is your home office? Wow..”

“Yes, I know. Come inside.”

The office was nothing short of a self sustained mini-bunker, with stored power cells, weapons, food and every other thing one might need in an emergency.

“This is top-secret. I tell you this, because I do not think you deserve to become paranoid. Blackwatch will not come for you, Jane.”

“Why not?”

“Because Saren himself has ordered this project to go on, through his connections.”

“What project? Dmitri, are you a spy?”

“No. This is Alliance approved. My father’s company, Rosenkov Materials, are no longer producing small arms for market.”

“I heard about that,” Shepard said. “Why? You were one of the largest-..”

“Yes, yes, We are still producing weapons, but not for private sales. My father received a proposal from Alliance to participate in great joint project with turians.”

“Okaaay..”

“We are at cutting edge of our field, Jane. The fastest ship imaginable, with groundbreaking stealth capabilities, developed in cooperation with turians. The project is still on, and this would not be case if all relations with them were destroyed at Torfan.”

After rummaging on the desk, Dmitri found a small remote and pressed it. A big screen were lowered down from the roof.

“Look,” he said. “No omni-tool, please.”

“I’d never,” she said and stared at the blueprint appearing on screen. The ship was a three pronged marvel, sleek and metallic. She didn’t recognize the shape, so it was clear they’d built her, whatever her name was, from the keel and up.

“New engine core, new stealth system, turian interior design, improved space usage, you name it, we made it.”

“It’s amazing. When does it go into production?”

“Erhm.. We have some snags,” Dmitri said with an embarrassed look. “Need work on Tantalus core matrix some more. Not agreed on armament. Experimental venting system needs overhaul. Few more years.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate this, but why are you telling me?”

“Because not all turians in Hierarchy think you are worst thing since rachni. I do not want you to live and be afraid of what they might do. Some turians, yes, but not likes of Blackwatch. Not Saren, and he is not nice guy, not at all.”

“Not Saren,” Shepard said with a thoughtful expression. “How strange.”

“Point is, this project is not shut down. There is no war yet. Fedorian want one, but many do not. I think cool heads will prevail. And I wanted to show you great ship. What is treason between friends?”

Shepard chuckled and gave Dmitri a hug.

“Give Eri and Inessa my love when they come back from that play date.”

“I will. Cheer up, good things must happen soon.”

 

**2178 CE – February 23 rd – Shepard’s Hotel Room – 21:21 PM**

There was a knock at the door. It wasn’t room service, and none of the people she knew had announced that they were coming. Not wanting to cause more problems, Shepard opened the door slowly, but kept her firearm ready.

The man outside grinned at her.

“Getting paranoid, Jane?”

“Uncle David! Hi!”

She put the safety on the gun and holstered it.

“May I come in?”

“Yeah, sure.”

She let him in and led him to the available chair while she sat on the bed.

“Can I get you something? Coffee? Water?”

“No, I’m fine. I’ve come to hear if you’re ready to be reassigned.”

“You’re kidding me? Already? What about my psych-eval?”

“We’ll tend to that on Arcturus before shipping out. Udina has as much as rubber-stamped your approval.”

Shepard crossed her arms and have David a lop-sided grin.

“Why? Does he need me gone?”

“Well..”

“I knew it!”

“The negotiations with the Council are going well, and Udina thinks it will go even better if we remove that which annoys Councilor Sparatus.”

“Meaning me.”

“Meaning anything that reminds them of Torfan. The ambassador has milked that particular cow for what it’s worth, now he’s on to greener pastures.”

“That was fast.”

“He’s very good when he wants something, and now he wants you out on a mission. You’ll be under my command for a while, until we can move you to another unit. Don’t want accusations of nepotism, do we?”

“It’s a good solution,” Shepard said. “When do we ship out?”

“Tomorrow.”

“So soon?”

“Need to make Arcturus in good time. You have a problem with that?”

Shepard shook her head.

“No, no problem, just unexpected.”

“Politics. Best to stay away from the stuff. I’ll see you tomorrow at the dock, 8 AM sharp.

“Aye aye, captain.”

“No favors, Jane, You’ll earn what you get.”

“Just the way I like it,” she smiled.

“Good. This is a fresh start for you, and hopefully you’ve seen the worst of what your career has to offer.”  
“We can only hope.”

David returned her smile, and gave her another hug.

“Can’t really do this on board, but sometimes, you’re still that little rascal running around after krogans and causing trouble everywhere. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, uncle.”

He cleared his throat and threw a salute, which she returned in kind.

“Lieutenant Shepard, until tomorrow.”

“Until tomorrow, captain Anderson.”

When he left, Shepard felt giddy. At last, things were starting to look up. It might take some time, but she’d clear her name of the infamy that followed it, and show she was just another soldier. Not the butcher, not a political trading tool, but an ordinary Alliance soldier.

From now on, she’d lead an exemplary military life. No more problems.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long chapter this time, because I have some bad news. I probably either won't make next weeks deadline, or I'll be severely late. It's overtime again, and this time it's both the weekend and the week days. I'm so sorry, but I'm not going to write a crap chapter just to get it out in time, so you might have to wait. Sorry guys, but that's the way it goes.  
> Anyway, enjoy this one :D
> 
> P.S. We've seen what Shepard can do, and in the coming chapters we'll have more focus on Garrus and his job. As always, one thread might tie all the others together...


	73. Old aquintances and new friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus is recruited for a special mission, and Jane makes new friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut alert. Well, not so smutty, really, but if that's not your thing, you can skip the Arcturus section altogether. :)

**2178 CE – February 27 th – C-Sec Armory – 07:06 AM**

It was almost a week since Jane had left the station, but Garrus didn’t worry too much about it. They chatted almost every night, and she was still safe at Arcturus. Cinna kept her word and he still had the best spot in on the shooting range, but Chellick was nowhere to be seen. A rumor flying around the station told he was taking time from work to deal with a personal issue, and Garrus was pretty sure he knew what that issue was. Despite that, he didn’t harbor any ill will towards the other male. No need to kick a turian while he was down.

“Vakarian. You’re here early.”

His boss, Tremerus, came in and gave his sidearm to the quartermaster.

“Got something special for you today. Just up your alley.”

“Shooting people?”

“Ha, almost. We need to pay a surprise visit to a smuggler hideout, and could use your expertise. Silent breach, followed by the full strike team.”

Garrus retracted the Volkov and clipped it to his back.

“Target?”

“We don’t know. Rumors only, but they’re dealing in black market organs. Hanar glands, salarian livers, human kidneys, krogan testicles, you name it.”

“Testicles? Is that a joke?”

“Krogans believe an extra set improves potency, negating the effect of the genophage. Ten thousand for a single ball, 40k for the whole quartet. Lucrative times, for those who have the.. hah, you catch my drift.”

Garrus’ eyes widened.

“Does it work?”

“Not one bit. Doesn’t stop them from trying.”

“No, I guess it wouldn’t.”

“Gear up. Deployment in 40 minutes.”

“Understood, sir ”

 

**2178 CE – February 27 th – C-Sec Armory – 07:51 AM**

Garrus cut the last wire holding the chained window in place and sneaked inside the warehouse. There were little to no light on the walkway rafters, allowing him to move with relative ease. Under him, about a dozen people of several species were stacking crates marked medical supplies. Some of them looked like they were barely holding up. Garrus recognized Timber, a human duct rat he used as an informant on occasion. Timber was helping one of his older friends, but Garrus couldn’t remember the name. There were so many of them, and since Torfan, their lot mostly had ceased interacting with C-Sec, which was understandable. C-Sec was comprised mainly of turians.

“Come in Ghost,” Tremerus said over the comms.

“Ghost here,” Garrus answered. “No heavily armed guards, about 5 watchers with possible concealed weapons, other than that mostly helpers. Stacking medical supplies.”

“Copy that. We’ll wait and see if anyone higher up the ladder shows up. Stand by.”

“Affirmative.”

 

Four hours later, Garrus knew that whomever was behind this wold not show himself at this place. Tremerus came to the same realization not long after.

“Okay, we’re not wasting another moment. We’ll get the merchandise and see if we can’t find the bastard that way. Garrus, start the party.”

“Roger that,” Garrus replied and dropped three flashbangs to the floor below him.

It was pandemonium. The turian helpers screamed and covered their eyes, while two of the salarian watchers had eye visors and started firing at the upper walkways. Garrus ducked and waited for backup.

The door blew open. Tremerus and his tactical squad fanned out, calmly taking down every armed opponent with deadly precision. From above, Garrus spotted the last one as he tried to escape through an air duct and shot him in the leg. They needed at least one to interrogate.

“Everybody else, down on the floor! DOWN!”

The rest of of the crew were mostly already on the concrete, but Tremerus order made the last ones drop down as well.

“Harkin, death tally!”

“One bug-eye, two bug-eyes..”

“Without the specieism, please.”

“Whatever you say, boss. One dead salarian, two dead salarians..”

Even from up here, Garrus heard the angry growl from the senior officer, but Tremerus held his tongue. No need to risk his career and getting bound up in endless hearings over Harkin.

“Officer Vakarian, get down here and find me a reliable witness.”

Garrus climbed down and headed straight for Timber.

“Ello’ Vacky. Come to let me go?”

“Not this time, Timber. Get up.”

“Get up, get down, get up, get down, you turians are an indecisive lot.”

“Funny. Somebody wants to talk to you.”

“Do I get credits?”

“Depends on whether or not you’re lying.”

“Damn..”

 

Tremerus studied the bedraggled human in front of him. The teenager grinned at him with blackened teeth.

“Do you know who ordered these crates?”

“Nope.”

“Who hired you?”

“Dunno. Some bloke in a bar.”

“This ‘bloke’ have a name?”

“Big bloke with no hair. Don’t ask for names. Bad for your health.”

“Got any idea what’s inside them?”

“Some medical stuff. Nuthin’ important.”

“Really? How about we open one up?”

“Not my stuff, big honcho turian. Do as you like.”

Tremerus turned and pointed at the nearest crate.

“Harkin?”

“Why is it always me?” Harkin demanded.

“Because I said so. Do it.”

Harkin grumbled and found a crowbar by a destroyed work bench. The crate opened with a creak.

“Bandages, sir. The whole crate.”

“What? No containers? No cooling system?”

“Just the damn bandages, I tell you.”

Tremerus snarled.

“Open another one.”

 

After ten opened crates, Harkin had found bandages, blankets, IV-drips, syringes, plaster, an assortment of pain killers, medical supplies for operations like sutures and scalpels, bone saws and knives, but no actual organs. Tremerus was fuming.

“All right, get this shit packed up and sent to the station. Bring that wounded salarian, I want to conduct a more thorough interview with him. Garrus, did you get the names of all the rats?”

Garrus was too seasoned to react to the slur.

“Got them, but sir, some of them look a bit sick, we should perhaps bring them to the hospital.”

Tremerus looked at the sad assembly.

“Anyone wants to follow us to the station for a check-up, raise your hand.”

None did.

“There, you see? They don’t need it.”

Garrus didn’t pursue this, but he took note of Timber almost carrying his friend out of there. The friend’s shirt had blots of red on the front. It could be from the breach, or an old wound, but there was little to be done now. His suspicions would have to wait.

 

**2178 CE – March 12 th – Arcturus Station – Gym – 10:03 AM**

Shepard furiously worked the punching bag, punching and kicking the lifeless object with cold determination. The simulator training yesterday had been a disaster, and she needed to vent on something. She’d _hesitated_. Not since before the fateful training with Vyrnnus had she hesitated in firing on an enemy in the sim-program. It was a matter of instinctive reaction, see the target, identify as enemy and kill. Trained by Vyrnnus, honed by Rolan Quarn. Yesterday, all those basics had gone down the drain. She wavered when the turian enemy figure came into view, her trigger finger reluctant to carry out the order her brain sent it. The turian soldier had killed her, and the instructor had written down some rather scathing remarks about the incident. That meant another week or two in training. Luckily, David’s ship were being refitted, so she still had time, but to flounder like that in a life or death situation was unforgivable. And yet.. _Strabo. Nirea. Argyle. Aius._ Dead or injured, because nobody waited.

The frustration was making her even angrier, and the lack of an apparent solution bled biotic power into her fists. Her next backhand swing tore the bag from its chain and sent it flying through the hall. By a stroke of pure luck, nobody stood in its way. Shepard walked over to the rest bench and grabbed a fresh towel to dry the streaming sweat off her face and neckline.

“Don’t think that’s allowed in actual sparring,” a voice said above her.

Shepard placed the towel around her neck and looked up. And up. And up, meeting a large white grin. The owner of the smile had a broken nose with complimentary face scars and a large neck tattoo.

“Still, that’s a fight I’d love to see. How you doin’ Lola?”

Shepard tried to get over the fact that while it was only one guy standing before her, there was a lot of him. As in wide shoulders, narrow hips and a lot of bulging muscles.

“Uh, Lola? You might have me mistaken for someone else?”

“Not with your face I haven’t,” the man laughed. “I’m James Vega. You look like a Lola, is all.”

Shepard was almost offended, but there was something in the guy’s manner that told her he didn’t mean to be rude.”

“My face bothering you, Vega? Cause from where I sit, you look like you’ve lost a fight or two yourself,” she grinned back,

“Oh, burn. One, maybe. Two, never.”

“Which means you’ve never challenged yourself. Not good.”

“Not like you, perhaps, but I’ve challenged plenty,” he said and winked at her.

Shepard found his boyish good looks and humor very appealing. There was, however, a very big but in here somewhere.

“Can’t see any stripes on your shoulder, buddy. Care to let me know your rank?”

“Aw, we there already. Damn. Fine, I’m sergeant James Vega, and you were lieutenant Lola.

“Were? Still got those stripes on my uniform, pal.”

“Yeah, but the uniform is locked away and you’re relieved of duty pending certain outcomes, right? So technically..”

Shepard leaned back and crossed her arms, smiling broadly.

“So, are you trying to get off on a technicality?”

“Never dream of it,” James laughed. “I go all in with what I got.”

“Haven’t seen what you’ve got.”

James leaned over and put his hands on the locker behind her. She looked up into a pair of brown eyes glittering with mischief.

“It’s a travesty. Tell you what, I still got one more day on Arcturus, we’re shipping out tomorrow. We could technically remedy that injustice.”

He was fun, but fraternization could get her booted out of the army. Technically.

“I’m not sure this is such a good idea. We could both get into a heap of trouble.”

He chortled and stood up.

“Up to you, Lola. I’ll be at the Southside bar later. If you change your mind, come see me.”

James turned around, flexed his glutes and strolled towards the showers. Shepard tried not to stare, but failed miserably. James Vega was a beautiful specimen of man. He was also her subordinate. Going to that bar would be a mistake.

 

2178 CE – March 12th – Arcturus Station – Southside Bar – 20:21 PM

Of all the stupid things she’d done in her life, this was one she knew she was walking into with eyes open. It had been years since she’d been with a human, and Shepard was on unfamiliar ground. No purrs would tell her if any advances were welcome, nor hums to ascertain mood. Still, that wide inviting smile was hard to misinterpret.

“Ey, Lola. Knew you’d come.”

“Like hell,” she smiled and raised a finger to the bartender before sitting down.

“All right, knew the odds were in my favor, then.”

“Because you’re so irresistible?”

“Nah, saw you checking out my ass in the wall mirror.”

Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed in embarrassment while James laughed.

“Hey, not like I wasn’t putting on a show for you. So, what do you think?” he said and ordered two more beers.

“I think this is a bad idea, have no idea what possessed me to come, and I’ll go nowhere with you if you have to drink yourself into a stupor to come on to me.”

“What, this?” He pointed at the beers. “I don’t need alcohol for that, thought I might keep you company with your drink. But if you’re in a hurry..”

James turned around and offered the drink to a guy sitting behind him. “Hey, want one? Wrong brand for me.”

“Really? Thanks, man,” the yeoman said.

“Problem solved,” James said and lifted the remaining beer to his lips. “Salud!”

“Bottoms up,” Shepard replied and poured down her Heat Sink.

James’ eyes glittered. “Yours or mine?”

The drink landed mostly on the bartender while Shepard guffawed. The older man glared at her.

“You’re denied!”

“What? I just got here.”

“Don’t care. Leave.”

“Ey, ey, Lola, I’ll go with you. If, you know, we got some business to attend to?”

Shepard measured the hulking sergeant with the handsome face. Just what the doctor ordered, she thought. Even if he was only a sergeant.

“Yeah, we got some stuff to figure out.”

The big knowing smile he flashed made her weak in the knees, and even if some part of her reminded her that she was still bonded to another, the will to free herself from those fetters won out.

“Let’s go.”

 

**2178 CE – March 12 th – Arcturus Station – Tillman Hotel – 21:15 PM**

If she’d been worried about how to make a move on a human guy after dating a turian for so long, Shepard needn’t have worried. James’s large hands were on her ass as soon as the elevator door closed, and he pushed her gently up against the wall as they ascended. Before he continued his advance, he cocked his head sideways and raised an eyebrow at her, as if to ask if she hadn’t changed her mind . Her response was to grab at his dog tags to get him down for a kiss, and the other hand deftly pulled up his shirt so she could feel the muscly grooves of his sixpack. Gods, he was well toned. He chuckled and indulged her in a kiss. Those warm soft lips were a little overwhelming to her, unaccustomed as she was to such luxuries, but he tasted sweet like only secondhand beer could. Lips. She’d missed that. James’s tongue briefly met hers, and she playfully sucked the tip of his. He responded with a small hiss, then trailed short nuzzles from her cheek down to her neck, where he rested his head as his hand went exploring further down.

With his other hand supporting her by a firm butt squeeze, Shepard leaned back and let him continue. With quick fingers he unbuttoned her pants and pulled at the zipper. At this moment, the elevator dinged and swooshed the doors open. James groaned and removed the hand as Shepard pulled her shirt over the revealing evidence. There was nobody outside, but James was getting impatient. He put his arm around her and kissed her temple.

“This way, Lola.”

 

The door lock beeped as he swiped the keycard and yanked her inside with him, slamming the door shut and again pressed her against the wall.

“I’m sensing a pattern here,” she grinned before he closed her mouth with his own. Before she could react, he’d lifted her off the ground and held her in the stand and carry position. He changed between kissing her fervently and gently tracing her lips with his tongue, all the while gently squeezing her ass. The guy knew what he was doing, that was certain. Shepard used her free hands to unbutton his shirt and freeing that magnificent torso, feeling the muscles in his back as he held her, and the bulging of his arms.

“Like what you see?” he grinned.

“Can’t deny that I do,” she smiled. “Get the shirt off.”

“Sure, what are you gonna lose for me?”

“What do you want? A sock?”

He laughed and set her down. His fingers found hers and he led her into the bedroom and pointed at the bed.

“Insistent , aren’t you?” she said and tickled him in the ribs, then ran her hand down and patted his butt.

“It might be the last time I get to order a Shepard around, so I intend to take full advantage,” he replied and gave her a small push so she landed laughing on the bed. When she’d turned around to look at him, he slowly removed his shirt, shimmied out of his pants and boxers and began flexing every part of his well trained body at her.

Shepard felt her mouth water at the thought of sinking her teeth into some well defined parts of him, and moved to get up. James immediately stopped.

“Nuh-uh. Get back on the bed.”

“Are you kidding me? Look, but don’t touch?”

“Yup.”

“Aaaw, that's’ just mean, Vega. Mean!”

Nevertheless, she got back down and supported her head on her hand while he flaunted his naked body. Shepard drunk in the sight of him, the tattoos, the scars, the muscles. Not a bad cock either, and to her surprise, very neatly manscaped. Her breathing was starting to get a little heavy and she rubbed her legs together impatiently. The man was clearly a sadist. As if he’d read her thoughts, James grinned broadly and shrugged, then literally jumped into bed. It creaked loudly.

“Think you’ll remember me after tonight?” he said and gave her another deep kiss.

“Hell yeah,” she breathed.

James winked and began removing her pants, having opened and unzipped it earlier. She was almost pulled from the bed by his strength.

“One down,” he said and kissed his way back up her leg. When he saw all the scars, he glanced up with a question in his eyes. Shepard shook her head slowly and ran her fingers through his hair. He understood the message and continued the trail of kisses up to her stomach. She was still wearing a shirt and bra. James pulled the former over her head and then flipped her around, unclasping the bra.

“Handy, ain’t ya?”

“You have no idea,” he chuckled and kissed her shoulder, before rolling her on her back again.

“Getting to the point, finally?”

“Patience, Lola.”

James swung one of her legs over his head so that he was kneeling between them.

“Getting warmer,” Shepard said and ran her fingers down his ‘happy trail’.

“You don’t get to issue orders today, Lola,” he grinned and leaned over her.

“Oh, come on.”

“Nope.”

Leaning on his elbows, he moved down and kissed her breast. Shepard gasped. No matter how good it felt when Decian licked her nipples, soft human l ips were designed for this. She felt James’ frame shake from suppressed chuckles before he latched on to one and suckled gently. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she tried to wriggle down to a more ‘suitable’ position, but he was so much taller than her, even like this, that he easily kept her from the goods.

“Told you to wait, don’t make it worse.”

Running a warm wet tongue over her breast, he enjoyed the sight of her closing her eyes in pure pleasure and arching towards him.

“Not long now,” he whispered against her flushed skin and kissed a new trail over to the other breast.

Shepard knew he was just teasing, and if she insisted, he’d pick up the pace. At this moment, she decided against it. She allowed her body to relax, leaning back and baring her throat to him. He wouldn't understand the last gesture, but the loss of tension would be readable even to a human.  
“That’s my Lola,” he whispered, kissing and suckling her other breast.

Shepard felt him shift position, and his cock head brushed against her folds, testing the waters. She certainly was wet enough for a small lake.

James let go of her breast and sought her mouth again. The kiss was wet and warm and slow, everything she needed it to be, and he gave her another smile, a gentle one this time, with a hidden question on his lips.

Shepard returned the smile and embraced him, answering the question with open arms. James began pushing inside, still going slow but clearly no longer in full mastery of his will to be in control.

When he bottomed her, he groaned on her shoulder and she could feel his thigh muscles tremble.

“Problems there, chief?”

“Don’t be mean, Lola. I held back for you.”

“I thank you for that, now you can let go,” she said and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Fuck me, James. If you dare..”

He snorted, then met her eyes as hungrily as she met his, a tacit understanding growing between them. James began thrusting, slowly but deep, stealing a quick kiss every time he managed to bury himself in her. Shepard should have felt a tensing in her stomach, a strong reaction to fucking another man than her mate, but instead she began to feel.. free. James was sexy, and fun, and gentle, and in this moment, that was enough. His thrusts became more eager and faster, and Shepard clung to his wide shoulders, allowing herself to take pleasure from him as he did from her. There was no tomorrow for them, it was only here, now.

She’d never imagined him as a loud lover, but when he approached his climax, he groaned in her ear and moaned the make - believe name he’d given her, again and again. Her hands traveled down and grabbed his firm ass, making James really put his back into the thrusts. The bed squeaked under the strain while their movements kept propelling the poor thing further and further away from the wall.

It was raw, and primal and everything Shepard needed it to be. She came undone under James’ wild lovemaking, moaning loudly in his ear when she climaxed. Shortly after he pushed inside her as far as he could go, screaming out his release to the detriment of the neighbors and collapsing on top of her.

“That was.. something else, Lola,” he said between breaths.

“Not so bad yourself, James.”

When he rolled to the side, the loss of body heat gave her goose bumps.

“You know, bedroom etiquette says you have to stay the night,” he smiled. “If not I might feel used and disrespected.”

“We can’t have that, can we,” Shepard grinned back and ruffled his hair again. “I want you to promise me something? Something important.”

“Sure, Lola. What do you need?”

“To use the shower first,” she laughed and tried to climb over him.

“Haha, nice try. It’s a big stall. How ‘bout we share?”

“Fair enough.”

He got up and extended a hand to her, pulling her from the bed and up into another kiss. His hands were already exploring her again, and she caressed his chest and back.

“Morning is still far away,” he said.

“Then let’s make the most of it.”

“In the shower?”

“There too.”

“My kind of woman.”

He bent down and picked her up again, while she swung her legs around his waist. She might not get much sleep this night, but she would get a lot of James.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, I'm back, and with an early release, no less. I know I promised more Garrus focus, but we had to get something else done before that, and now, we're done with that. Thank you James, you may go now :D 
> 
> I struggled like mad with that part, can you believe it? I really wanted to add in mandibles, spurs and the works. O_o  
> Must've broken some alien lever on my writing box, that was difficult for me to jot down.  
> Anywaaaay, I really liked Vega in ME3, but damn, the "romance" you can have with him is beyond creepy. The poor guy has to get shitfaced just to hop in the sheets with you, and after he just runs away.. Not good at all. And he's so cool when you're tangoing with Garrus, nodding like "mh, mh, mh, I could go for some of that, lady." :D Missed opportunity, Bioware.. (Not to mention he's drop dead gorgeous.)


	74. Affairs of the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus discovers red tape and Shepard is far away.

**2** **17** **8** **CE –** **April 16** **th** **–** **The** **Citadel** **–** **C-Sec Mess Hall –** **13:46** **PM**

Since the botched operation a month ago, Garrus had put feelers out on the street to catch wind of any rumors of organ dealing in his area. Not one tip had panned out. Timber and his friends kept their distance, and somehow, there were fewer duct rats on the station. He’d checked the flight lists, but couldn’t discover that any of them had left the station. Not on any official flight, at least. The black market investigation had taken a backseat to recent rumors of a contingent of Facinus agents trying to infiltrate C-Sec. Garrus had gone on record, making a statement about his time in Boot Camp 859 and the potential recruitment done there. Among the names were Caecilia Abrudas, her cousin Potil, Quentius Sparatus, nephew of the Councilor, Alram, son of general Alrek Fedorian and numerous others. Thanks to his father, his name was redacted from the records. The ensuing investigations would have made him a target among those Facinus agents they hadn’t identified yet.

Garrus hated the whole situation. Not only was Facinus more active, but there were more representatives of Terra Firma openly politicking against appeasement towards turians, and the big defense contractor known as Cerberus was under new management, declaring that they would fight for the human species even if the Alliance did not.

Add to that, C-Sec mess hall was awash with hearsay. Anti-human resentment was growing every day, and the background buzz hurt his ears.

He glanced over at Harkin, sitting alone in a corner. The human didn’t seem to care about all the watchful eyes on him. On the contrary, he seemed to thrive on the suspicions glances and more or less open hostility.

 

“Vakarian.”

Garrus looked up, and met the tired eyes of Chellick.

“Hi. Welcome back,” he said and moved so the other turian could sit down.

“Thanks. Some month, huh? Heard the guys down at Aroch Ward caught two sleeper agents.”

“I heard that too. Representatives from Terra Firma has been on the newsreel all week whining about it.”

“Figures,” Chellick sighed. “I think Joram Talid is considering of entering politics too. He just needs one big win to make a name for himself.”

“That anti-human boss of yours? Great, that’ll calm things down.”

“I’m aware.”

Chellick became quiet for a minute, and Garrus knew what he wanted to ask. He wasn’t about to make it easy for him.

“So.. Uhm.. Have you heard from.. you know?”

Garrus ate another piece of pulan toast.

“Who?”

“Please, don’t.. Don’t be like that. I just want to know if she’s okay. Nothing more.”

Garrus hesitated.

“….She met some guy.”

That made Chellick sit up.

“What guy?”

“Some human guy on Arcturus. Don’t know who he is.”

“Oh.. I guess.. She’s doing all right, then..”

“Guess so.”

“I’m.. glad.”

He got up and quickly walked out without another word. Garrus tried to block out Chellick’s thrumming pain as he left. He’d left her, not the other way around, Garrus told himself. Whatever pain Chellick felt, he himself had been the cause of it all. There was no telling if Jane would be angry at him for telling her ex about her dating other men, but Garrus deemed it didn’t merit any secrecy either. They were over. Jane could see whomever she wanted. Now he only needed to present his own intentions in a way so that she would want _him_. From the messages he received, there was still time to think of something. Captain Anderson’s ship wouldn't be back on the Citadel for a long while.

 

**2** **17** **8** **CE –** **June** **26** **th** **–** **The** **Citadel** **–** **Lower Wards** **–** **03:02 AM**

“You see him?” Tremerus voice was muffled by his armor.

“Negative;” Garrus replied. “Some heat signals. Someone was here not long ago.”

“Keep moving forward, we’ll get him.”

The smell of the rancid water in the pipes made Garrus gag, even with the air filter on the helmet. It was about time the Keepers were sent down here, but the duct rats kept impeding their work, and some of them had been killed in the process. Now they would flush out the last of them and see about getting this place cleaned up. The Citadel underground system could not be allowed to fester. The whole station would be in danger.

“I got movement,” Tremerus barked.

Garrus switched mode on his visor.

“Got him. In pursuit,” he barked and ran after the scuttling figure as best he could. These drains were not made for turian size, and his armor scraped against the roof and sides.

“Got another one. I’m changing course, you follow yours!” Tremerus shouted.

“Got it!”

In front of him, Garrus could hear the wheezing breath of the duct rat and the odd shuffling gait. They were usually very fast, but this one had problems running. The moving shadows told him he kept gaining on the rat, and he sped up another notch. The scrapes and dings on the armor could be repainted and polished.

On a long stretch of horizontal pipeline, Garrus charged the fleeing figure and tackled him to the ground. The small human under him groaned in pain.

“No! No, please let me go! He’ll be so angry, he’ll be so mad!”

“Don’t worry, pal. We’ll help you.”

“No, you can’t! You can’t! Only he can. Let me go!”

“Sorry, human, but you’re coming with me.”

Garrus hauled the human to his feet kicking and screaming, and the echo of the yells reverberated through the metal pipes. He winced.

The sooner I’m out, the better, he thought and called up Tremerus.

“One down. Moving to gathering point.”

“Roger. Got mine too.”

 

* * *

 

 

In the brightly lit interrogation room, Garrus studied the human he’d caught. He was filthy from head to toe, covered in caked layers of brick dust and mud. The eyes were runny, and he wore rags that barely kept together. That wasn’t the most notable thing about him, however. It was the fear. He’d rarely been able to smell fear on humans, but this one was terrified. Cold sweat, shaking, eyes darting everywhere and he’d refused to say anything since they came out of the pipes.

“Can I get you anything?” Garrus said, trying to be friendly.

All he got was a nervous shaking of the head.

“We have water, coffee, a sandwich, maybe?”

Another shake.

He sighed.

“Got a name?”

The human seemed to ponder that, if it was safe to reveal his own name. After a moment, he answered.

“Carson.”

“All right, Carson. When we were underground, you alluded to a ‘him.’ Who’s he? Your leader?”

“Never said anything,” the man said.

“I’m not deaf. You said _he_ would be very angry with you. Why is that?”

“Don’t know anything about that. You misheard me.”

Garrus cued up the vid from his visor and played in on the screen on the wall.

“ _No! No, please let me go! He’ll be so angry, he’ll be so mad!”_

“ _Don’t worry, pal. We’ll help you.”_

“ _No, you can’t! You can’t! Only he can. Let me go!”_

“Misheard, did I? We can help you, if you tell us who your leader is. We needed to clean out your spots for the Keepers. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Carson shook his head, and a small trickle of blood came from the corner of his mouth. When he wiped it, he first stared at the blood and then Garrus.

“What have you done?”

“Me? I didn’t do that.”

“You landed on me!” the man shrieked. “What have you _done?_ ”

Carson rose unsteadily from his seat, and Garrus saw how the rags on his body were beginning to soak with blood.

“Whoa, there. Sit down. Medic!” Garrus called in the intercom.

“He’s gonna kill me,” the man wailed.

“Who?”

“Maybe it isn’t so bad”, Carson bawled and pulled his shirt up.

Garrus almost vomited. The mans torso was covered in sutures, some of which had ruptured and bits of flesh were poking out of the gaping wounds. The gashes bled profusely.

“Medic!” Garrus called again. “Medical emergency in interrogation 5.”

“He’s going to be so mad,” Carson said again before he collapsed.

 

**2** **17** **8** **CE –** **June** **26** **th** **–** **The** **Citadel** **–** **C-Sec Mortuary** **–** **18:45 PM**

The body of Carson laid under a blaring light, naked and opened on the table after an expedited autopsy. Garrus stood in the corner, shoulders heavy with guilt.

“Well, doctor? What do we think?” Tremerus said.

The turian pathologist put down his face protector and started washing his hands.

“I think I’ve seen a new level of depravity. This man has two livers, three kidneys and one barely developed extra lung. All the incisions are from transplantation. The organs have been inserted in the thoracic cavity to allow for growth, and where the attending surgeon found it necessary, he’s removed some ribs to make room for the organ. When Officer Vakarian landed on this unfortunate fellow, the pressure from his weight and the missing fifth rib caused the lung to protrude from the wound.”

Garrus held his hand over his mouth. Tremerus laid a hand on his cowl.

“Easy, Garrus. Wasn’t your fault.”

“Didn’t much help his chances, did I?”

“I doubt he would have lived to see his payday,” the pathologist said. “He was near critical system failure. Two organs, and the body might have handled the strain until they were grown, but three.. The sloppy stitching on the lung transplant makes me wonder if this wasn’t a test of sorts.”

“Test?” Garrus growled.

“Why find people to harvest organs from, when you can hire poor people to grow then inside,” Tremerus said. “Very cynical. And smart.”

“How’s the salarian duct rat you caught?” Garrus asked.

“He lawyered up pretty fast for a homeless guy. Unless we can make him testify, he’ll walk in the next hour.”

“Lawyer? Carson didn’t get a lawyer.”

Tremerus shrugged.

“Because he died before the volus arrived. He was to represent both of them.”

“You can’t let the salarian walk,” Garrus protested. “He’s probably full of transplanted organs too, we need to make him talk.”

Tremerus looked Garrus in the eye.

“How do you propose we do that? Beat it out of him? He’s not saying a word, and the lawyer refuses to leave his side.”

“Make something up! I’ll make him talk.”

“I’ll pretend I never heard that, Vakarian. We do things by the book here, as your father would say.”

“Tremerus, if we let him go, he’ll most likely die, and we have to start our investigation from scratch. You know this has something to do with that botched raid two months ago. No wonder we didn’t find any organ containers, they were all walking around in there! Like living dead.”

Tremerus signaled Garrus to lower his voice.

“We don’t have a choice. We operate within the bounds of the law.”

“The law can be bent,” Garrus hissed.

“But not broken! Any attempt at forcing this salarian to talk would be seen as such, and we’d have a major lawsuit on our hands. Do you want it paraded in court that we may have contributed to this man’s death?”

Tremerus pointed at the dead man on the table, and Garrus turned his head and looked away.

“No.”

“Well then.. We don’t have much of a choice. Let the salarian leave, Garrus. No interference.”

Garrus stared at Tremerus’ back as he left him in there with the dead human. Whomever was vile enough to do this, would not give up his lucrative business so easy. He’d find the bastard, even if he had to break a few rules in the process.

 

**2** **17** **8** **CE –** **July** **14** **th** **–** **The** **Citadel** **–** **Tayseri Lower Wards** **–** **01:25** **AM**

It had cost him a lot of his own hard earned credits, but Garrus had finally found someone in the Citadel Medical Association who was willing to take a bribe. The elcor in question was hard strapped for credits. Garrus had noticed him loitering outside the Consort’s building several times, and had approached him in a quiet lull of the elcor’s workday. The elcor sat on the medical board, and the board had a list of every private medical clinic on the Citadel, both those who had an official license, and those who conducted research away from the public eye. Operating rooms and large cooling vaults needed a lot of power, and needed to be registered to allow for so much power needs. The info could be a dud, but it could be just what he needed to find this creep. The list was extensive, with hundreds of potential targets. Garrus wondered why the one behind all this hadn’t relocated to Noveria, which was known for its shady dealings, but he figured the access to throwaway people was bigger on the Citadel.

Garrus had went about the list in a very turian way, he’d started at the top and followed each and every one of them for a few days to see if he could mark any of them as suspicions, and he was now on doctor Garan, a big time expert on turian carapace replacement surgery. After what Garrus last heard from Castor, he’d actually managed to get the very expensive doctor Garan to operate on Aius with good results. He hoped very much that this surgeon wasn’t the one he was looking for.

 

* * *

 

 

After trailing Garan for hours, it turned out to be another emergency operation for a turian soldier recently docked on one of their military vessels. Doctor Garan was clean, as far as he could tell. Garrus opened his omni-tool. The next one on the list was a doctor Heart. His gaze glanced the timer. It was 03:15 AM. Too late for a new stakeout. He was due back at his desk at 08:00. Damn. This was taking too much of him, and he was always tired at work, occasionally snapping at his colleges.

There was another message from Jane blinking in the display too. Garrus flicked a mandible. At least he had that to look forward to before he went to bed.

 

**2** **17** **8** **CE –** **August** **24** **th** **–** **The** **Citadel** **–** **Zakera C-Sec Comp** **o** **und** **–** **14** **:25** **PM**

Since his last outing on the walkways during night cycles last month, Garrus had been unable to pursue his nighttime activities for weeks. Another cell of Facinus sleeper agents had been discovered, and he’d been part of the team that had them under surveillance for the past month before the brass decided to take them out. During this time, the officers all had to wear the same colored armor and helmet for any outside operations, lest they be targeted by Facinus later. His dad was worried. While Facinus grew stronger, Terra Firma and Cerberus rode their coattails and stirred up the human side. If cooler heads didn’t prevail, a small spark might ignite the entire station.

“Vakarian, are you with me?”

Garrus blinked and returned to the present.

“Your demeanor at work has been noticed,” Tremerus said. “You’re tired and irritable. You don’t socialize with your colleagues anymore. You don’t have a female either, and your stress levels are rising. What’s going on with you?”

“I got something I need to do,” Garrus said dismissively. “And I socialize with my family and some friends.”

“I see. Garrus, I know that human’s death, Larson was it? weighs on you. Letting that other rat go wasn’t my ideal outcome either. We’ll find the one responsible sooner or later.”

“Later, you mean,” Garrus said. “ And it was Carson.”

“Garrus, you need to lighten up, or else I’ll be forced to make you take some leave. I can’t have a high strung sniper on my team.”

Garrus exhaled heavily. “I understand.”

“Good. Glad we sorted that out. Take the rest of the day off, okay? Have a drink, relax.”

“Sure.”

When Garrus walked out of Tremerus’ office, he decided to return home. He really didn’t want a drink right now.

 

After arriving at the apartment, he flung himself on the couch and opened the omni-tool. To his surprise, Jane was online. He started to type.

<G.Vakarian – Me>: _Hi Jane. Still on active duty?_

A few seconds past, then the reply pinged in.

<J.Shepard – Jane>: _Restocking on_ _Illium. Guess who I met?_

<Me>: _No idea. Who?_

<Jane>: _Rolan Quarn. Looks as handsome as ever, and still the smooth talker. Has a new name now._

Garrus groaned. Just the competition he needed.

<Me>: _To_ _o_ _old. Droopy fringe. Get something younger._

<Jane>: _Haha, I’ll tell him you said so._

<Me>: _And I meant it._

<Jane>: _Now I almost think you’re jealous._

Garrus tapped his talons on the keys a few times before he wrote.

<Me>: _What if I am?_

There was a pregnant pause before she typed back.

<Jane>: _Are you serious, or joking?_

<Me>: _Serious._

<Jane>: _………………_

<Jane>: _………………_

<Jane>: _… Okay… Not really sure how to respond to that._

<Me>: _No response needed. Just know, next time you’re on the Citadel, I’ll ask you out. On a date. A real one. So don’t shag that old guy and break my heart._

<Jane>: _……………_

<Jane>: _I have to think about this._

<Me>: _Think away. I’ll ask anyway._

<Jane>: _Haha, okay. When did you get this direct?_

<Me>: _Waited for years. Done_ _procrastinating_ _._

<Jane>: _Fair enough. I guess we can have a drink._

<Jane>: _Captain coming. Have to go. Bye._

<Me>: _Take care. Bye._

 

He closed the omni-tool with mandibles flared from plate to plate. He’d done it! He’d asked, well, told Jane that he _would_ ask her on a date. And she’d said yes. Sort of. Even with that wretched ancient Rolan skulking around! Damn, he’d forgotten to ask her when she might return to the Citadel. No matter. He could wait a few more weeks, and he had stuff to fill the hours in the meantime. It was time to follow doctor Heart.

 

**2** **17** **8** **CE –** **September** **2** **7** **th** **–** **The** **Citadel** **–** **Tremerus’ Office** **–** **09:02 AM**

“It’s him, sir. I know it. He’s our guy.”

Tremerus glared at his young officer, and the datapad in front of him. It was filled with surveillance vids and holos of a doctor Heart. Strange name for a salarian, but there were so many strange individuals on the station.

“Where did you get this information, Garrus?”

“I followed him, and when I discovered that he might be the one, I conducted surveillance on his place for weeks. I haven’t acted rashly, but gathered the evidence we need to take this guy out, sir. Just like you wanted me to.”

“Garrus, don’t evade the question. How did you find this guy? Don’t tell me you just followed random strangers and this Heart guy fell into your talons. How did you know where to start?”

The withering stare made Garrus twist uncomfortably.

“I.. I got some guy at the CMA to give me a list over all the medical practices on the station. Both the overt and the covert ones.”

Tremerus closed his eyes.

“And how did you persuade him to give you this information?”

“There was… some monetary compensation,” Garrus admitted.

“You bribed him,” Tremerus sighed and placed his hand over his crest. “We can’t use any of this.”

“What? Why? Surely the risk to the inhabitants of the station would outweigh any-..”

“It’s all fruit of the poisonous tree, Garrus. Anything and everything you’ve discovered in the course of your little investigation would be inadmissible in court.”

“Sir, that doctor is killing his patients, and you’re going to let him get away with it?”

“No, Garrus, you’re the one who’s just enabled him to get away with it. All of this information is useless!” Tremerus growled and snapped the datapad in two. “In your haste, you just let the doctor go free. We have to try and find another way to get at him now.”

“Sir, if you just look at the evidence!”

“I have! Be thankful I’m not reporting your conduct to your father, Vakarian. It would reflect badly on me to have such an insubordinate officer. Next time you decide to go all vigilante on me, don’t!”

“Sir!”

“Vakarian, you’re hereby ordered to take one month leave. I don’t want to see your hide anywhere near this station in that period of time, am I clear?”

“Sir?”

“Am I clear?” Tremerus repeated.

Garrus forced his anger and disappointment to subside.

“I understand. I’ll go.”

“Good. Perhaps when you’re gone, you can read C-Sec’s book of regulations again. You seem to have forgotten a few chapters.”

“Sir.”

Garrus turned on his heel and marched out.

 

**2** **17** **8** **CE –** **October 12** **th** **–** **The** **Citadel** **–** **Chora’s Den** **–** **19:59 PM**

The loud music quelled some of the disturbing thoughts which churned around in Garrus’ mind. The drink he’d ordered was left untouched on the table in front of him, and the asari strippers held no temptation for him. One month forced leave. Galenus had called several times to fish out the real story behind his vacation, but Garrus maintained it was because he was exhausted, and Tremerus had backed up the story. One month where the lugubrious doctor Heart could continue his disgusting business, killing innocent people. He was almost tempted to take his rifle and wait for the doctor outside his building, if he hadn’t already told his boss about it. How could the law favor the criminals? That wasn’t how it was supposed to work.

A shadow loomed over him.

“Is this seat taken?”

Garrus raised his head to say no when he recognized the person under the hood. _Jane!_ He jumped up from his seat.

“Hi!”

“Hello Garrus. Busy?” Jane smiled.

“No! Not at all. Please, sit. When did your ship come in? Why haven’t you told me? How did you find me? Wait, are you here looking for.. a casual hook-up, and just happened to see me?”

Jane laughed and sat down.

“Three hours ago, we took damages fighting some slavers, Castor, and no.”

Garrus tried to remember his own questions while Shepard raised her hand to the waiter. So it was a coincidence, Castor kept an eye on him from his medical studies with Ravarn, and Jane wasn’t out trawling for some stranger. Great!

“You look dreadful, Garrus,” Jane said with her customary tact. “Care to tell me what you’ve been up to? You used to have such shiny plates.”

“Oh, ouch. Thank you,” he said scathingly and quickly checked in the bar mirror. Yeah, he did look terrible.

“If I knew you were coming, I’d have buffed up a bit.”

“I’ve seen worse, and so have you in regards to me,” she smiled and accepted the blue drink from the waiter. “Story time?”

“Sure you want to hear this? I don’t usually tell the gory details of my work to my dates.”

“This isn’t a date,” Jane said and sipped her drink. “This is you having a conversation with a friend whom you might ask on a date later.”

Garrus laughed. “Got me there. Okay, the friend stuff first.”

* * *

 

He told her about the botched operation, and his subsequent investigation into doctor Heart. Jane listened with rapt attention, and he hoped she might have some sort of advice for him.

“So basically, nothing you’ve discovered can be used to get this organ dealer.”

“Nope, not a thing.”

“What does he sell?”

“A little bit of everything. Turian livers, human kidneys, krogan testicles..”

“Krogan testicles? Really? The whole quad?”

Garrus felt a little twitch in his eye when he realized Jane knew about quads, and hoped it came from a datapad and not personal experience.

“Yeah. They supposedly increase the fertility in krogans.”

“Do they?”

“Not one bit, but he sells them for 10k a pop.”

“Really?”

Jane went silent for a moment, and Garrus used that moment to study her. She looked good. More relaxed than last time he saw her, and her face had almost none of the empty sadness he’d seen last time. Hard work suited her. On an impulse he lifted his hand to touch her face, and he only caught himself when it was halfway there.

“Sorry,” he said. “Thought I saw a thread of fabric.”

“That’s all right,” Jane said, still deep in thought.

“So what we need is a believable way in,” she said finally.

“Yeah, but like I said, that information-..”

“And nothing says _‘I want in’_ like a disgruntled krogan customer,” Jane said with a huge grin.

“Jane, are you saying-..”

“I’m not saying anything,” she winked. “I’ll let my krogan buddies do the talking for me. I bet Wrex would be really interested in someone using krogans as organ incubators.”

“So the krogans..”

“Will do the breach and entering. You ’ll just happen to pass by at the right moment.”

“Tremerus will be suspicions.”

“That’s innate to being turian,” Jane shrugged. “ I’ll try not to get noticed, since our species are not on speaking terms at the moment, but if Skogan and his crew go in, I wanna be there as backup. You get your bad guy, and I help all my friends at the same time. I’ve faced worse scenarios. ”

Garrus could only stare at her. Jane arrived, and within ten minutes, she was breaking all the rules and coming up with a plan that worked for everyone. And she smelled good.

“Yeah, pretty good,” he said after finding his tongue. “ Make the call. I got your back.”

Another big flash of white teeth from Jane, and Garrus felt a little weak in the knees. Spirits, he’d missed her. Jane sent the address and info to her krogan friend, finished her drink and got to her feet.

“Let’s go, big guy. We got a party to crash.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again with a big time skip.  
> Now, my friends, we're getting real close to our first full blown shakarian encounter. :D It's been over a year in the making, but we're so close you can almost smell the turian semen ;)


	75. Narrow Escapes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus and Shepard take on a devious salarian.

**2178 CE – October 12 th – The Citadel – Outside Dr. Heart’s Clinic – 21:40 PM**

There was no mistaking the hulking figures of krogans gathered in the alley leading up to the entrance. In the front of the pack, a krogan of smaller stature was checking his studded gloves. His hump wasn’t entirely fused together in the front, and Garrus recognized him as Skogan, the odd asari-loving friend of Jane. Despite his diminutive size, he was clearly the leader of the group. When he saw them, his scaly face bared all his teeth in a terrifying greeting. If Jane hadn’t been there, Garrus was sure he’d felt compelled to put his talons on his sidearm.

“Skogan, you big lump. Come here!” Jane grinned and hugged the young krogan.

“Shepard,” he growled playfully. “You brought the young hopeful with you. Still smells horny. Slept with him yet?”

Garrus had a coughing fit, but Jane merely laughed.

“Ease up, Skogan. Don’t scare him away. Got your boys ready?”

“Oh, we’re all fired up,” a red-humped krogan snarled. “I’m Urdnot Darex. We contacted uncle Wrex about this quad-peddler. He flew into a rage. Take him out, he said. Immediately.”

“And we intend to,” a minute green-humped krogan said. “I’m Weyrloc Barro. This so-called doctor killed one of my friends. He disappeared three months ago after a corrective surgery.”

“You see, Shepard? Not so tiny after all, my team,” Skogan said proudly. “Strength in numbers.”

The rest of the pack guffawed.

Shepard laughed with them. “Nothing we can’t do with you guys at my side.”

“So, I’ll just walk up to the door and demand a refund?” Skogan said.

“Yeah. Just shout two or three times, then get your boys and break down the door. Don’t want to give the guy any chance to destroy evidence or kill people. I’ll be right behind you-..”

Garrus nudged her in the ribs.

“Right. _We_ will be right behind you, providing cover and biotic shielding if we encounter much resistance. Don’t know what to expect, but he’s dealing in illegal body parts. Expect some armed guards.”

“He could have a damned company in there,” Barro growled. “The meat market is shutting down tonight.”

“Then lets’ do it,” Jane said. “Lead the way, Skogan.”

 

Just as they planned, Garrus and Jane fell behind the krogans and waited around the corner. One last weapon check before hell broke loose, and Jane did the same. She nodded at him and crouched down. He followed suit.

“EY! Them balls you sold me ain’t working!” Skogan bellowed in the com-unit on the door. “I want my credits back!”

As if on cue, the krogans in the background began roaring and firing their guns in the air.

“Spirits, C-Sec is going to be here in minutes,” Garrus said. “That wasn’t the plan.”

“Improvise. You heard the gunfire, and was first at the scene,” Jane said. “If we’re lucky, we’ll get that slippery salarian bastard right now.”

Down the street, Skogan and one of his buddies started banging on the door, then a krogan in the rear told then to move, and with a running start crashed through the entrance door, wooden splinters and pieces of door frame flying everywhere.

“Refund! Refund! Refund!” the krogans chanted and piled inside the clinic.

“That’s our signal. Lets’ go,” Jane said and ran after them.

Garrus hurried after her, feeling the thrill of impending battle rising up inside him.

A shotgun blast was heard inside, and a roar from one of the krogans.

“Armed guards. We need to move fast,” Jane shouted.

She burst onto the scene flaring a large shield and firing her pistol at a rail mounted turret.

“Tuchanka!” Skogan shouted at the front and fired at the salarian security guard.

Garrus noted that they were fitted with body armor and heavy assault weapons. Not the kind of security guards one would expect in an ordinary clinic.

Jane swung her arm around, sending a biotic charge down the narrow corridor to scatter the line of approaching guards. Garrus held back and started picking them off one by one.

“Scoped and dropped, scratch another one” he counted out loud. “I love this rifle.” The remaining guard was taken down by a charging krogan, slamming into a wall and breaking through it with a loud crash.

He heard Jane chuckle over the comms, knowing which rifle he referred to.

“Jane, upstairs! Let’s strike at the heart of the matter.”

“Got it. Follow me! Skogan, do you have this area covered?”

“We got this,” Skogan shouted. “Five down, three left. Go, go, go!”

Garrus followed Jane up the stairs. He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back as she rounded the first corner. Several rounds of incendiary rounds flew past them.

“Turret,” he explained. “Visor range.”

“How many shots before reload?”

“7!”

“Four, five, six, seven, GO!”

She rolled to the other side of the corridor and became a blur once she activated the biotic dash to get behind the turret in time. Just as the rotary drum had refilled for a new series, it blew apart from a close range shotgun blast.

“No subtlety,” Garrus sighed over the comms.

“Efficiency, turian,” Jane smiled and waved him over. “Know the layout?”

“Main office right over there,” he pointed. They ran over there without delay.

“Wait, I can get this open.”

Garrus pulled out his omni-tool while Jane covered him . Initializing the hacking program, he quickly connected the mag-tumblers and opened the door. Inside, a salarian in a white suit glared at them. His side arm was still in its holster, but something about his demeanor was worrisome.

“Warrant?!” he demanded.

Damn, he hadn’t considered that the guy would think of that. Garrus aimed his rifle at the doctor, but hesitated. Jane didn’t.

“Your staff firing on a member of C-Sec after we came to investigate a disturbance? It’ll be here shortly, trust me. Stand down, doc.”

The salarian narrowed his eyes and glared at Jane. She glared back.

“Don’t even think about-..”

He pressed a button on the desk, and a shimmering defense relay slammed down from the ceiling. The only opening was a small gap at the top, and doctor Heart gave a sarcastic wave before lobbing a grenade through it. Jane threw up her hands and a powerful biotic shield flared from her hands. Garrus could feel the energy tingling on his hide. The grenade went off with a deafening bang, and Jane staggered backwards under the intense strain. In the corner of his eye, Garrus saw the doctor ready another grenade, and he bolted forward, knocking Jane backwards out of the door and covering her with his body. He quickly disconnected the hacking program on his omni-tool, and the door closed just before the second grenade exploded.

The door held, but the spiritsdamned salarian was probably making his escape. Garrus knew they had to pursue, but he needed to check on Jane first. He needed to.. needed to… Garrus suddenly became acutely aware that it was Jane who was under him, staring up at him like she’d never seen him before. Her chest was heaving up and down in a strangely alluring manner, but it was the expression on her face that got Garrus. It was shock, it was a half smile, it was.. an invite? Humans were notoriously difficult to read. Garrus had no idea what she was thinking, until he felt the draw in his chest. The battle bond. And.. something else? The sounds of combat downstairs disappeared, the thought of the escaping doctor Heart vanished, and an insistent need to claim her as his own manifested in his mind. It was accompanied by a very insisted prodding behind his groin plates. Jane’s lips parted and mouthed the word ‘Garrus’ with breathless awe. It was almost inaudible, but it burned every syllable into the fabric of his soul with absolute clarity. _Mine!_

“Hey! What are you doing?” Skogan bellowed as he ascended the stairs. “Did you get him?”

Garrus only pulled up from Jane with extreme reluctance and thrummed angrily at the krogan.

“No! We almost got blown apart by his little countermeasures.”

He reached his hand down to Jane and pulled her up. She blinked several times and shook her head.

“I, uh.. He has to have an escape path, but there’s only one place to go when he’s been discovered.”

“The dock,” Garrus said.

“The dock,” Jane affirmed. “He probably has some contingency shuttle on standby. We need to get down there.”

“Let’s go, boys,” Skogan ordered.

For once, Jane looked a litte flustered when she glanced at him.

“Talk about it later? The mission first,” he suggested, and she nodded gratefully.

“Yeah. Let’s just get the bastard, and then..”

She didn’t finish the sentence, but she didn’t have to. Garrus knew what she wanted to convey.

 

**2178 CE – October 12 th – The Citadel – Docking Area – Zakera – 23:03 PM**

The pack of krogans marching double time into the dock caused much agitation among the turian dock crew. The rumors of Tuchankan support for the Alliance had caused a surge of new mistrust between the two species, but with Garrus at the front of the group, it didn’t devolve into a brawl.

“Where is the supervisor?” he called to the nearest mechanic.

“He’s up in control, third level,” the turian said with a nervous mandible flicker.

The group ran up the stairs and burst in on the supervisor in his office.

“What’s the meaning of this? I’m handling an emergency medical departure, and you-..”

“Stop the lift off,” Garrus ordered. “No ship leaves the station until we’ve done a thorough search.”

“Under what authority?” the turian supervisor demanded.

“C-Sec Special Investigations,” Garrus said. There was no going back now. “Order that ship back.”

The turian looked from Garrus to the pack of snarling krogans behind him.

“We need to check that with C-Sec,” he said with uncertainty.

“Then check,” Garrus said. “Just put that departure on hold, unless you want a mass murderer to go free.”

“Murderer?! He’s a doctor, the ship’s full of patients bound for a special clinic on Sur’Kesh.”

“Hostages,” Jane murmured behind him. “We have to stop that ship now.”

“All right,” the supervisor said. “ Paean, you’ve not been cleared for departure. Stand by,” he called to the hospital vessel, then pointed at one of his assistants. “You, get me C-Sec on the line.”

 

Three minutes later, Tremerus was on the line, and he was furious.

“What have you done, Vakarian!? You’re on leave! That clinic is a spiritsdamned battle ground!”

“Sir, have you searched it?”

There was a short pause.

“We have. The basement is full of dead bodies with their organs harvested. I think I saw that salarian we had to let go a few months back too.”

“I didn’t go in first , sir, that was someone else. I just followed them.”

“What are you doing at the docking controls?”

Garrus turned and faced the supervisor.

“Sir, we think we have found doctor Heart’s ship. He’s trying to leave the Citadel right now, and he’s got hostages on the ship.”

“Do you have visual confirmation?”

“No, but he-..”

“What are you basing this assumption on?”

“Sir, the doctor escaped capture, he’ll want to leave the station as soon as possible. When did this ship request leave?” Garrus asked the supervisor.

“Maybe 20 minutes ago.”

“We need to search that ship, and close down every departure until we’ve found him.”

“Vakarian, that sounds like a lot of hunches, not-...”

A series of messages pinged in on the large screen in the control room.

“It’s from the Paean,” said the supervisor.

“On screen,” Tremerus ordered. “Dual transfer to C-Sec simultaneously.”

 

A dark cockpit came into view, with doctor Heart and his co-pilot in the seats.

“C-Sec,” the salarian smiled politely. “I would advise you to let me leave. I have a ship full of volatile patients, and I’m afraid the smallest delay would see them depart from this world in a horrendous manner.”

The link was cut.

“They’re moving towards the gateway,” the dock assistant said.

“Close it,” Garrus ordered. “We have him.”

“Vakarian, wait. We have a protocol,” Tremerus said. “We need to negotiate. Hold on the closing!”

“Passing the gateway,” the assistant chirped.

“Dammit, we’ve no time!” Garrus yelled.

“They’re dead anyway,” Jane whispered behind Garrus. “As soon as he hits that relay, he’s no use for them.”

“We can’t close the gateway with a ship passing through, it would damage the entire dock,” the supervisor said.

“Then..” Garrus glanced to Jane. “I don’t see any options, do you?”

She shook her head. “Not unless you have an entire armada to send after him.”

For a moment, Garrus weighed his options, then decided. “Shoot it down!”

“What!”

“What did you say?!”

Tremerus and the supervisor both gasped.

“Those hostages are dead as soon as Heart gets away from us,” Garrus said. “Use the turrets, fire it down, now. At least we can stop future suffering.”

“You don’t know that,” Tremerus said. “We need to keep civilians safe.”

“There’s no way he will let them live, they’re filled with expensive organs. He’ll slaughter them like the bodies you saw in the clinic. Fire!” Garrus repeated.

“Belay that order!” Tremerus shouted. “Do not fire on the ship!”

Jane pointed at the screen. “Almost too late. He’ll be gone in five, four..”

“Tremerus, sir, please! We’ll never get another chance like this!”

“Three, two..”

“Do not fire, I repeat, do not fire,” Tremerus barked.

Doctor Heart’s ship entered the relay and disappeared in a flash of white. Garrus took one step forward and gripped the panel sides so hard his knuckles went pale.

“Gone,” Jane said.

The supervisor and his assistants breathed a visible sigh of relief, and Garrus wanted to slap each and every one of them. They’d just let a serial killer go free.

“Vakarian, I expect you back at the station in ten minutes to explain yourself!” Tremerus ordered. “This is the most serious violation of conduct I’ve seen in my years here.”

“Right, sir,” Garrus said through narrow mandibles. “Coming over now.”

Outside, the krogans were dissatisfied with the escape of the doctor, but Jane convinced them that all in all, they’d done well. They’d shut down a dangerous criminal on the Citadel, and his escape was not their fault. ‘The boys,’ as she affectionately called them, dispersed quickly and disappeared. Considering that Skogan was at least twice their age, Garrus found the situation peculiar.

“I have to go,” he said. “They’ll be expecting me soon. You better leave too. My people haven’t forgotten about Torfan, and neither has yours, so it’s better that you..”

The words he wanted to say wasn’t there, in the action and the escape of the doctor, something else had vanished for him, but Jane didn’t leave. Instead, she took his hand.

“Not before I’ve said thank you. Thank you, Garrus. You saved my ass at least twice back there,” she said with a soft smile.

Garrus swallowed and gently closed his talons around her fingers.

“Uhm.. You saved me too, with that first grenade. What’s a little life debt between friends?”

He chuckled nervously, remembering how he’d wanted to take her right there on the floor, during a firefight. Not something you’d do to a mere friend.

“How bad do you think it’ll get with your boss?” Jane asked.

“Bad,” he said with a huff. “I’ll be looking at suspension, not just leave.

“Damn. I feel like I sort of dragged you into this,” she said. “Sorry.”

He flared his mandibles. “It’s not like I protested when you called in the krogan vanguard.”

“No, but still. Seems I land you in trouble whenever I stop by.”

She tried to pull her hand back, but Garrus held firm.

“I like your kind of trouble.”

Garrus was rewarded with another smile, and he felt like he was about to float away.

“Back there, outside Heart’s office.. Did you.. feel something,” Jane said guardedly.

Sometimes, there was no recourse but honesty.

“Pain, terror and acute sexual arousal. I’d never do anything against your will, you know that,” he said hurriedly, “ I don’t know what happened. My body just reacted.”

Jane’s expression was half surprise, half relief.

“So it wasn’t just me. Thank the gods for that. My track record with you isn’t really good, groping you last time we was alone, and this time I almost.. Never mind.. Nothing happened.”

“Right,” Garrus said, forcing his curious nature to not ask what might have happened if Skogan hadn’t showed up.

“I’m going to be late,” Garrus said and let go of her hand slowly.

“It’s Zakera C-Sec, right? I’ll wait for you, in case you need to vent a little.”

“I appreciate that, Jane.”

Garrus hadn’t even taken one step before Jane had put her arms around him in a hug.

“I’ll always be on your side, big guy.”

His mouth opened to reply, but instead he felt that pull again. With his arms full of warm human, and no danger in sight, he still felt drawn to her, like an Invictus Gnat to a flame. At last Garrus realized what it was, but he didn’t dare utter the word. It was probably different for humans, and he was not going to scare her away. Instead, he leaned his head on top of hers and hummed.

“Garrus,” Jane said breathlessly.

“Hmm?”

Gently, she pushed herself a little away and locked eyes with him. Then, as if asking permission, she slowly reached out her hand and placed it on his waist. Unbidden, a high pitched chirp escaped his mouth plates. She didn’t take it any further, merely lowered her hand and smiled that lopsided smile he’d come to love.

“I think we better talk in private, Garrus. I’ll be waiting outside your station.”

Great. Like he’d be able to focus on Tremerus after being told that.

 

**2178 CE – October 13 th – The Citadel – Zakera Ward C-Sec HQ – 01:13 AM**

“Vakarian, you are the most reckless officer I ever had the misfortune to work with,” Tremerus barked. “A few weeks leave I said and now I have a complete mess on my hands. How, in the darkest Invictus Jungle did you come upon those krogans just as they were storming the clinic”?

It wasn’t in a turian’s nature to lie, and he wasn’t very skilled in that art, but Jane and her ‘boys’ had given Garrus excellent material to work with.

“I heard shots,” Garrus said. “Followed the sound, and then followed the krogan inside.”

Tremerus looked down at the datapad. “All right, go on.”

“Inside the buildings, the krogans and the building security guards had began firing. I just followed one of their numbers up the stairs to the doctor’s office.”

Tremerus wrote down the timeline. “And then?”

“Doctor Heart recognized me. We weren’t shooting at this point, just told him to stand down. He asked for a warrant.”

“What was your reply?”

“That I was currently checking out a violent breaking and entering, I didn’t need one.”

Tremerus placed a hand on his crest.

“That is.. technically true.”

In his mind, Garrus sent a heartfelt thanks to Jane for thinking about that one on the fly.

“Then what?”

“The doctor released a security grid and threw grenades at me.”

This made Tremerus look up.

“He actually attacked you first? This is important, Garrus.”

“Yes. I barely made it out the door before they landed. Afterwards, I knew he was going to escape, but I..” Here he remembered how it felt laying on top of Jane. He rubbed his temple to shake the memory.

“I was a bit rattled. The explosions were palpable through the door. I then surmised that Heart would try and leave the Citadel as soon as possible. As soon as C-Sec checked out his clinic, his secret would be out.”

“And you ran to the dock?” Tremerus said in a funny voice.

“I did.”

“With a trail of krogans behind you.”

“Sir, they weren’t there for me. When they realized I was C-Sec, they didn’t care about my presence. I wasn’t about to start a shootout alone with a pack of krogans in front of me. I try not to take on odds like that without some backup.”

“Right.. I’ve met that pack. Already lawyered up, with a volus firm now representing the de facto tyrant of Tuchanka. Those Turnouts are getting too powerful,” Tremerus mumbled.

Garrus hoped he wouldn’t ask about any human figure accompanying him, but in a big crowd of krogans, a human easily slipped from sight. To his relief, Tremerus had other questions.

“Your story seems to hold water, Vakarian. Thank the spirits for the little things. Now for the more important part. You ordered a civilian to activate Citadel’s defense turrets to shoot down a ship full of hostages. Explain yourself!”

“Sir, you know what kind of hostages that were. It was a medical ship, meaning they were filled with people Heart has stuffed full of redundant organs. When he gets to where he’s going, he’ll cut them open and kill them. He’s no need for them anymore.”

“That was not your call to make, Vakarian.”

“Sir, it was the only call that made sense. They were dead anyway once he left the Citadel.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that salarian! They doesn’t stand a chance. If we’d shot him down, at least we would’ve prevented further suffering. Now, he’s free to start again out there, somewhere.”

“Enough!” Tremerus snapped.

“There will be an official investigation into your actions, and until then, you’re suspended. I don’t want to hear another word from you, or about you, until I call you back to announce the results.”

Garrus stood up and saluted.

“Yes, sir.”

“I don’t know what’s happening with you, Vakarian, but you better fix yourself, unless you intend to ruin your future career in C-Sec. We don’t need any vigilante here.”

For a second, Garrus considered throwing his resignation in the other turian’s face, but decided against it. His father would be apoplectic, and his mother would be distraught if he left in disgrace. Before he left, he gave Tremerus a cold stare. The older turian stared back, but without any malice. He really thought he was doing the right thing. And that was the problem, Garrus realized. They were so inflexible.

On the long walk to the elevator, Garrus didn’t look anyone in the eye, but kept his gaze firmly fixed forward. Inside the elevator, the newscaster was already announcing the incident at the clinic, but kept silent on the events at the dock.

Upon stepping outside, he scanned the area for Jane, but couldn’t see her.

“Psst, Up here,” someone said.

Garrus looked up, and there she was, wide smile and waving hand.

“I got a skycar, come on up.”

The dark thoughts in his head vanished. He was going somewhere to talk.

_With Jane._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late chapter, but again, RL is pulling me away from writing and I'm working overtime again. And I know a lot of you were expecting to see some Shakarian action, but alas, I had no time to do it justice in this chapter.  
> But, there's light in the end of the tunnel. Garrus and Jane going somewhere to talk? Talk... mwahahahha... Riiiight! 
> 
> P.S. Might be late next week too. This workload is killing me.


	76. Talking things out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus and Jane "talk" things out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. Messy and chaotic, as first lovers usually are. Nuff said.

**2178 CE – October 13 th – The Citadel – Skycar – 01:59 AM**

The interior of the skycar held normal temperature, but Garrus felt like he was giving off steam. The pair of them couldn’t really go somewhere public, as Jane would be recognized, and Garrus’ mouth had run away with him and suggested his place. To his utter delight and astonishment, Jane agreed. None of them had said anything since they got in the car, and there was a certain tension between them. Not the awkward strain of two people trying to make conversation, but a high strung realization that one of them had to be the first to change their friendship. Garrus had no idea how to proceed. His home was 7 minutes away, and in that space, someone had better do something, he figured.

The skycar veered a hard right to avoid colliding with a speeding medical transport, and gravity pulled Garrus to the left where Jane sat. He put his hand on her thigh to avoid bumping into her, and when the skycar steadied its trajectory, he sat up. His hand, however, remained on Jane. Dozens of scenarios played out in his brain and he swallowed nervously. What would Jane think about him encroaching on her physical space? Should he lift his hand? Should he gently squeeze her leg? Why oh why didn’t those stupid human porn vids show any actual courting, just the sex? And why was there a warm feeling on his.. oh..

Jane had put her hand on top of his, entwining those strange fingers between his talons. Garrus couldn’t hide the exhale of relief, which evolved into a big mandible flare when Jane rested her head on his shoulder. Nothing to worry about, he was obviously a pro at this. In the dark of the skycar, he leaned down and rested his chin on her head. It was met with a welcoming sigh. For the first time in a long time, Garrus felt something akin to peace.

 

The ride was over before he knew it, and they arrived at his place a few minutes later. There was no telling on whether or not his neighbors were watching, and he reluctantly let go of her fingers.

“Neighbors,” he said to her.

She sat up and smiled. “I understand.”

“Keep your hood down and your hands in your pockets, Hopefully they will think you’re an asari.”

“Damn, should’ve got one of those fringe replicas,” Jane laughed. “We could do some roleplay.”

“And get Skogan’s attention? No. No krogan for you.”

“All right, all right. Just an idea.”

“Follow me.”

 

It was the middle of the night cycle of the station, and not many people were outside. Garrus didn’t stop to think about this, he walked casually to his flat with Jane close behind him. If he tried to look inconspicuous, someone was bound to notice. An asari coming home with a turian wasn’t unusual at all. Hopefully nobody saw the lack of blue in her skin. That would be.. awkward.

With every step he got closer to home, he realized he had no desire to talk. Not at all. He wanted to show her how he felt in every other way imaginable but words. Still, he’d promised. When they reached the front door, he patted his pockets for the keycard, and bent down to swipe in, when he felt it. A warm hand patting his waist. A sharp squawk escaped him, and the keycard dropped to the ground. Garrus spun around and glared at her, but Jane wore an expression of utmost innocence on her face. If he didn’t know she was the only possible groper, he’d be convinced she was wrongly accused.

“Aren’t you gonna pick up your card, Garrus?” she said with a sweet smile.

“Are you going to.. do things to me while I do?” he asked with a suspicions stare. After he said it, he realized he wanted her to do all of those things… Inside.

“You’re imagining things, turian.”

“Mhm..”

He edged sideways so he could keep an eye on her in his peripheral vision as he bent down to pick it up, and caught sight of Jane ogling at his hind plates. Human woman were strange. The door opened without further trouble, and he grabbed Jane’s arm and pulled her inside. Any thoughts he might’ve had about that talk had vanished. Jane had taken his hand, she’d groped him, and now he needed to know.

Was she here to talk, or to..

Before he realized what happened, Jane stood on tip toe, hooked her fingers gently around his mandibles and pulled him in for a kiss. A real kiss, the kind he’d been dreaming of for years. No quick peck on the mandible, no nuzzle to his crest, but tender lips on his mouth plates, and a warm pink tongue seeking his blue one. Garrus pushed her against the wall without realizing it, and proceeded to wrap his arms around her, slowly swirling his tongue around hers. Her hands found their way to his hip and cowl, pulling him closer and making him almost tower over her. From his chest began an unmistakable purr when she sucked his tongue into her own mouth. Tasting me, Garrus thought, and the sensation of it made him sway a little. He stood there, letting Jane have her way with him, content to bask in her attentions. Her fingers expertly found their way under his uniform, releasing clasp after clasp to get to the waiting flesh underneath. When she brushed her fingertips against his bared waist, Garrus couldn’t help himself grinding against her hand, willing her to stroke his waist even harder.

Jane broke their kiss and chuckled in his ear, willingly kneading and caressing him. Every touch set of sparkles in his head, and Garrus pressed his face in the crook of her neck, taking in her scent and the warmth of her skin. This was where he belonged, he in her arms and she in his.

“Bedroom,” he whispered hoarsely and began nudging her towards it.

“Lead the way,” she whispered back and continued to remove the clothes from his plates. When they passed the kitchen, his shirt disappeared, and when they passed the bathroom he was hopping on one leg to get out of his pants. Garrus tried to get Jane naked too, but those damn tight fitting clothes were tricky. Inside the bedroom, he was down to his spur protectors and one boot, while Jane was still wearing an odd chest harness and everything below her waist. So unfair.

“A little help, please?” he said, and Jane smiled.

“Sure.”

Garrus stood back, watching as Jane undid the harness and revealed her chest. He knew some turians really liked asari, and had been told numerous times about these things, but he never much cared for breasts himself. Until now, that was. His erections was already out of its sheath, glistening and pointing straight at everything he desired, but he held back to take in every moment. Jane’s breast wiggled slightly when she bowed down to undo her shoes, and Garrus wondered what it would feel like to touch them. To lick them. How Jane would react if he played with them. His purr grew even louder when Jane slid off her pants and underwear at the same time, and stepped out of them as naked as the day she was born. He also had to blink to make sure this was real. Jane Shepard, in his bedroom, ready and willing. He’d waited so long, and now that she was here, he didn’t want it to end. Garrus feared it wasn’t even real. This made him hesitate to approach her, but he held out a hand, palm up to invite her to come to him.

As if she understood him completely, she took his outstretched hand and embraced him. His hard cock pressed against her lower abdomen, smearing her with his natural lubricant. She didn’t seem to mind, and Garrus felt his dick twinge at the thought of his scent upon her.

The bed was behind her, and he began taking small steps towards it. Jane stepped backwards until her shin bumped the frame. Their little slow march stopped, and Jane cast him a playful glance. Garrus put his hand on her shoulder and pushed her very gently backwards. Quickly realizing his meaning, Jane allowed herself to fall onto the bed, and scooting back enough to make room for him. At first, he didn’t follow. Instead, he drank in the vision of her in his bed, naked and waiting for him. He meant to strike an impressive pose where he stood, but his own damn mandibles fluttered like an eager teenager’s and gave him away. Jane chuckled and held out her hand, inviting him to come to her. He didn’t hesitate this time and slid down beside her, going for another kiss. Warm lips met his plates, and he snaked his tongue into her mouth. Jane looked like she approved of this, or at least she sounded like it. He became bolder and ran his hand down to one breast, cupping it carefully. Another soft moan told him he was doing something right, and he was very happy he’d blunted his talons last week. Her skin was too thin to deal with any type of hard scratching.

Jane arched towards him, but Garrus pushed her on her back and started to lick the side of her neck, nuzzled her clavicle and traced his tongue all the way down to one breast. Now he’d know if she liked a breast lick. He glanced up at her as he ran his tongue over her nipple, and was rewarded with a gasp and a higher arch. Yup, he was a pro.

While he changed position to lick her other breast, Jane ran her fingers up behind his fringe and stroked his sensitive fringe suture. An involuntary groan escaped him, and his cock gave another insistent twinge. Garrus tried to remember the vids when was the human female ready to be penetrated, but Jane’s deft fingers made the memory drown in his own purrs. A short tremble in his chest warned him that he might come just from this, and he quickly liberated his fringe and pinned her hand over her head. His other elbow kept his weight off her, but right now they were face to face, and to his surprise, Jane looked a little red in the face. One more thing he had to ask her later.

“Jane, are you.. can I.. ?” he began, and stopped.

He suddenly felt like a fledgling again, but Jane merely smiled and nodded. This should have been awkward, but her warm smile and her legs spreading to welcome him blew his smoothed over his unrefined bed manners. Garrus kissed her again, and pushed hips hips forward, making contact with her pussy. It was like a jolt coursing through the top of his fringe to the tip of his talons. They were really doing this. A thought flashed in his brain, and he gave her a quick nip on the cheek and got up on his knees.

“Garrus, what are-..”

“I want to see better,” he explained and maneuvered himself to a better position. Jane shook her head, smiling.

“Kinky turian.”

“Right now, you have no idea,” he panted.

Looking down, he saw that she wasn’t as hairless as those females in the vids he’d downloaded, but had kept a single small strip of hair on top of her.. her.. He forgot the word when he saw the small nub above her opening. The reaction of those females in the vid was vivid in his mind, but again, his cock twinged, this time throbbing almost painfully to remind him how it had been neglected for a good long while now. He gave it a few short strokes, rubbing off some of his natural lubricant of his thumb and placed it tentatively on the nub. With the same care as defusing a bomb, he started circling his thumb on it, and Jane’s moan almost made him come right then and there. Garrus smiled. Clearly, he was a natural at this. Garrus edged closer and nudged her opening with his cock. Jane stopped wriggling around and opened her legs even wider so he’d have easier access. Slowly, he pushed the first helical ridge inside, and couldn’t keep back a soft trill. Female humans had lubricant of their own, it seemed, and the feeling of his cock practically slither inside her made his toes curl. Garrus checked how Jane was doing. She laid on her back with a big smile and eyes half closed, so he figured they both were doing fine so far. Another few helical ridges were swallowed by her folds, and Garrus couldn’t stop staring at the contrast of his deep blue and her pink. It was a combination not found on his home planet, and it mesmerized him. One more push, and he was almost seated in her. _In Jane._ Garrus felt a shudder ripple on his hide. Not from any cold, but from a desperate need to claim her. He’d never felt this possessive of his former girlfriends, but Jane..

Garrus tore his gaze from their coupling and positioned himself over Jane again. He wanted to look into her eyes when he pushed fully inside, watch her expression change when he started thrusting, hear her moans in his ear. He wanted all of this, and when Jane looked up on him, he knew he was almost there.

“Ready?” he whispered, and got a lick on his mandible in reply.

With one last gliding movement he hilted himself, but Jane’s expression changed to one of complete surprise. Garrus had no idea what he’d done wrong, when the sensation he’d felt back during their firefight returned with a vengeance. It felt like his spirit was drawn from him. At the same time, he could feel that a part of Jane’s spirit became his. He saw her, and at the same he saw himself with her eyes.

So this was what bonding felt like. He had no idea if humans felt the same, but he could see she did feel something, tears welled in her eyes and she wrapped her hands around his cowl. She was beginning to smile, he hadn’t done anything wrong. Garrus’s heart swelled in his chest. His newfound _mate_ sought refuge with him, and Garrus would oblige. When her legs entwined around his hips, he knew what she wanted from him, if she felt like he did, what she _needed_ from him. His four toe talons curled into the fabric, making a ripping noise and his hips shoved forwards, pushing Jane into the mattress under him.

“Gods, Garrus,” she breathed, and he nipped at her neck, thrusting deeply. The bed frame creaked with every stroke, and Garrus sensed his talons dig deeper into the mattress. It didn’t matter to him. Jane moaned and ran her hands down his back down to his waist, settling there with a firm grip. His breath hitched, but he could take it. And he could take her. His pace increased, and despite Jane’s tight little pussy gripping his cock like a velvet vice, his orgasm was still a ways away. The wet slap every time he went plate’s deep into her was irresistible, and he even found time to steal a kiss or two between thrusts. Jane’s color was still more reddish than usual, but he had began to suspect that this was a good thing. The sounds she made were very good things. Garrus grinned proudly. There was nothing to having sex with a female human, he thought, he could go all day.

Then she bit him.

Not a hard bite, oh no, but she’d clamped her blunt teeth on his sensitive neck hide, licking frantically on the little piece caught in her mouth. To his embarrassment, he chirped loudly. _He was being claimed._ That sneaky little human! Garrus tried to pull away, but she clung to him and continued to lick his hide. The familiar rumble rose from his chest and he felt a tremble in his thigh muscles. Oh no.. Oh no, hell no, there was no way he would blow his load this soon, not when it was their first time. In one ear, he heard Jane’s muffled chuckle. So it would be like that, would it? He was being teased and tested, was he? Well, two could play that game. Garrus started to increase his pace with every thrust, fucking her hard and well, but Jane merely hitched her legs more around him to allow deeper entrance. Garrus moaned Jane’s name in her neck, grabbed one hand around her ass to solidify his grip and keep them in rhythm. If she could claim him, then he would claim her. Everything about her would be his. Her kindness, her ruthlessness, everything, he would have it all.

After only two minutes of intense fucking, he’d built such an aroused high he couldn’t stop. His entire body ached for release, and his spirit, well.. Whatever spirits he had, it must’ve failed him right now, because the more he claimed Jane, the more she owned _him_. Garrus’ entire body started to shiver, and the orgasmic rumble from his chest told him his body was getting ready for release. Jane let go of his neck and gasped out his name, and Garrus felt a warm wet sensation on his cock. _His mate had been satisfied_. He looked down on her flush face and contented grin, and was again flying high. Who cared he wouldn’t last another minute? Not Jane, by the look of her.

Then his knot tingled and Garrus winced. Oh spirits no, not that too. He tried to pull back, but he was still trapped between Jane’s legs, and she was not letting him go.

“Jaaahne, uuuuuuh, I going tooooh… I…. Aaaaah..”

Whatever he wanted to communicate, it got scrambled on the way from his brain to his mouth. In his defense, Jane, that mean human, did nothing to help.

“Garrus, I want you to come inside me. I want all of you,” she grinned and lapped at his neck again.

“Mmmmmiiih,” was the only reply he managed as his body had began to shake and vibrate to expand the blood vessels in his cock. His base was expanding, and Garrus’s thighs and legs were trembling with the strain of holding him up and keeping the pace.

In the end, he surrendered. He surrendered to Jane, to the new bond and to his body, now demanding him to tie with his mate. Garrus buried his head in her neck and whispered her name before he began the last push. Behind him, he could feel the air springs in the mattress puncture and deflate under his toe talons.

Jane stiffened for a short moment, then he felt her entire body relax to allow him entrance. Garrus whimpered as he pushed inside, not wanting to hurt Jane, but she caressed his cowl and kissed the side of his face, letting him know she was all right. He’d never done this before, and somewhere in his muddled mind he knew his seam felt uncomfortably stretched, but it was unimportant right now.

With a last wet shwoop-sound, his knot was inside Jane, and his body finally allowed him release. His orgasm hit Garrus right between the eyes like a proverbial rocket, sending sparks up behind his eyeballs as he shot string after string of semen safely locked inside his mate. Incoherent mewling escaped from his mouth plates as he tried to avoid crushing Jane under his weight, and failed badly. A series of blue shimmers erupted between them, and Garrus felt his torso was being lifted up a few centimeters by a biotic field. The force sent tremors through his carapace, the sensation was very alike the orgasmic vibrations coming from his own body. To Garrus stunned amazement, this stimulation of his system prolonged his orgasm, and he was helpless as his own body continued to force a continuous orgasm due to Jane’s biotics. After a whole minute, Garrus’ mind felt like it was about to come apart with bliss, but they were still attached at the hip, and he couldn’t pull away without hurting both of them.

“Jane, please,” he gasped. “no more biohht.. help me, ooohver.”

She quickly understood what he meant and let him down slowly, then helped him to roll them over so that they laid on their sides.

“Uuuuhuuhuuh,” was the only thing he managed to say.

His entire body, apart from his cock, felt limp and like he’d received a thorough thrashing, in the best way. The lactic acid in his thighs made them tremble, and his arms felt like he’d gone 20 rounds in the sparring ring, but none of that mattered. He’d satisfied Jane, and himself, and now, she was here, in his arms, stroking his mandibles with her fingers.

“Hi,” she said, smiling.

“Uuuh, hi,” he mumbled with what little voice remained in him.

“Good talk.”

She snuggled closer to him, placing one leg over his hip and one arm around his back.

“Mmmh,” he hummed and put his arms around her while drowsily pressing his nose in her hair.

Jane smelled like sex and sweat and..him, to put it delicately. Garrus was totally fine with that. Talk or no, she was his mate now. She could snark him all she wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took forever to write, and not just because of the gratuitous smut.  
> I can't promise weekly updates for a while, every other week is the best I can promise. If I can, I will put out a new chapter every Friday, but if I don't, blame my job. :/
> 
> In the meantime, enjoy this chapter. You guys have been hanging on for so long, you deserved this. Next time, we'll have Jane's pov to see how she feels about banging her best friend. :D


	77. A quiet night in and an evening on Omega

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus and Shepard relax after a long night of exertion, and Saren gets the Omega experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for some violence, torture and threats of sexual violence.

**2178 CE – October 13 th – The Citadel – Garrus’ Apartment – 14:13 PM**

A long and pitiful whine was heard from the turian on the bed as Shepard carefully dabbed some ointment on his seam. She held his pubic plates apart with some gentle pressure, and used one finger to smear the swollen blue seam - lining with the soothing oil. Garrus had his eyes closed and one hand resting over them, giving off self - pitying whimpers from pain. She shook her head.

“Nobody told you to do that twice in one night,” she said and tried to be more gentle with his bruised sheath.

“You tricked me,” Garrus replied without looking at her.

That made her chuckle, and he lowered her hand to gaze intently at her to underline the fact that he was suffering greatly beneath her fingers.

“I’ll take some responsibility for the first time, but that time in the shower was all you.”

“Humans are so callous,” Garrus said, ignoring her. “Look at what they’ve done to me.”

“Mhm..”

After having administered all the care possible, she lifted her fingers and the plates slid back in position. A sigh of relief came from her suffering new boyfriend, and Shepard put the cap on the tube and set it aside. She looked at him while he rolled around on the bed trying to determine the effects of the oil. This had gone a lot faster than she’d planned. From the moment he’d landed on top of her in Heart’s office, she’d known that something like this was bound to happen. The battle bond was one thing, but what happened there was so different. It was a lover’s bond, no doubt about it. She might not have recognized what it was the first time it happened, between her and Chellick, but this time, she knew. That feeling was unmistakable. But where to go from here? Was there a tacit understanding here? Garrus did want her to be his girlfriend, she knew that much, but from potential girlfriend to.. the word stuck, even when she tried to conjure it in her head, _mate_ , was still a long one. For the rest of the world, she was still the Butcher of Torfan. This new feeling toward Garrus changed nothing about how the rest of the galaxy saw her. His career, her career, their futures would be irreparably damaged if this went public. Shepard didn’t even notice when she gave Garrus a sad smile. He, on the other hand, noticed and reacted immediately.

“Come here,” he said and pulled her down on the bed before she could protest. “I need my human fix.”

Shepard laughed as he ostensibly sniffed her hair and roamed his hands over her body.

“Insatiable, aren’t you? Careful, or you’ll begin to spread your plates again.”

He winced, but pulled her close and wrapped her arms around her so she couldn’t wriggle free with ease.

“Cuddle,” he demanded playfully. “Because I’m in pain, and it’s your fault.”

“Yeah, yeah. Rub it in. Or, isn’t that what I did?”

“Because I deserve it. You drained me.”

“As I remember, that-..”

The rest of her retort drowned when he shamelessly purred in her ear. She made one more attempt to answer his besmirching of her character, but he merely purred louder. For some reason, her mind became very sympathetic to his plight, and she relaxed into his arms.

“Sneaky turian,” she said and adjusted herself so she could get even closer.

“Learned to fight dirty from a human,” he said smugly. “Blame her.”

“I will.”

“Mmmmmmhhh. But not yet.”

Garrus continued to sniff her and sometimes licking her neck in a clear show of newfound devotion. She relished the attention, but knew it was only delaying the conversation they actually needed to have. The one about the future.

Behind her, Garrus stomach gave a loud growl.

“Hungry, big guy?”

“Mmph, yes..”

“I’ll make us.. right, you don’t have any levo food. I’ll order some asari takeout,” she said and tried to edge out of the bed. To her surprise, he hung on like a plated pyjak.

“But then you’d be gone.”

“Your omni-bracelet is on the kitchen floor, I think. I’m not ordering from mine to your place. It’s two minutes, tops.”

“Too long,” he whined and began purring again.

Shepard gave up and let herself be held prisoner on the bed.

“You really are a mushy turian, Vakarian.”

“No, I’m an all around bad boy,” he said and stroked his talons through her short hair. “Women love those.”

“Really? Do all of them get this treatment?” she smiled and brushed her fingers on his fringe. Garrus went cross-eyed with bliss.

“Mmmhno, just you. Mooore, please.”

He bent forward so she could reach the fringe tips. When she ran her fingers all the way down the cartilage horns, Garrus entire body twitched and his muscles rippled under his hide. The purring became intermixed with moaning, and he gripped harder around her, as if he feared she’d slip away.

Shepard wondered if he really was ready for another round, but the answer to that came quickly. Garrus’ moan was cut short by a small whimper.

“Ow.. Ow, ow.. Don’t tempt me.”

Her fingers slipped from his fringe and settled on his mandible.

“Sorry, Garrus.”

“Mmmmhh.. Soon.”

With her forehead pressed against his, Shepard dozed off to the sound of his contented purrs.

 

**2178 CE – October 13 th – Omega – Rooftops – 15:15 PM**

From his position, Saren could see the most of the downtown slum where his target was hiding. Arista’s long hunt for their foe had born fruit, and while she was unable to discover his or hers identity, after Vyrnnus’ escape she’d found an overlap with his communications and a location which sometimes corresponded with the mysterious signals. The runaway commander was good, but not good enough to elude Blackwatch forever. Today, he was not here to make an arrest, or even to kill Despan. Something had stirred the unseen enemy, and there was a lot more radio chatter than normally. Arista had managed to isolate a certain pattern in the messages, and found a focal point of the activities on Omega. Traffic into the space station had increased with 7% the last week, and yesterday, Vyrnnus arrived. If they were lucky, to meet his master.

Saren knelt down and scanned the area with his thermal goggles. They cut through the fog from the machinery, revealing the position of his adversaries. He’d never expected there to be so many salarians present. Many of them heavily armed, and not wearing the colors of Eclipse.

In fact, they weren’t wearing any identifiers at all. Not crime syndicate, and not pirates. Saren found that most interesting. The presence of the unknown salarians was a new development in his investigations. So far, all his suspects were either turian, batarian or even krogan, but a lot of changes were taking place lately. Most of the krogans were summoned back to their Homeworld. The new leader was rallying the different clans under one banner, and many had returned to Tuchanka. Not Garm and his Bloodpack, and established pirate war bands continued to raid as they’d always done, but the situation on Tuchanka were.. unnerving. Something would have to be done about that, later.

Saren lowered himself down to a roof below. He needed to get inside the circle of jammers put up all over the Omega slums. Aria herself had given permission to roam about as he pleased, as if he needed it, but there was little to gain by antagonizing the self proclaimed queen of Omega. He’d been in close combat with her twice before, the first one infinitely more pleasurable than the latter, Saren thought with a curt smile. For the moment, they had no diverging interests, and his presence wasn’t upsetting her business. These strange privateers were. They didn’t gamble, drink or fuck, and most of all, they weren’t respectful. T’Loak wanted them gone, without starting a war. It was bad for business. That’s where I come in, Saren mused. He wasn’t used to being played like this.

At the end of a cul-de-sac, a heavily armed battalion of unmarked soldiers and mercs from different species stood at attention. The Spectre noted the military stance among the salarians and made a mental note to ask Mordin if any splinter cells of the STG were operating out here. In addition to the salarian troops, there were batarians, some turians, two or three humans and thanks to his quick eyes, Saren even spotted a figure climbing up the wall on the opposite building with ease. A drell assassin. Someone was pulling out all the stops.

He bent as low as his armor joints would allow and crept forward.

Keeping under the supporting brick wall, he approached the gap between this building and the next. There was a small divide of about a meter across, and Saren could jump that with ease. The roof looked solid enough to hold his weight and not make too much sound when he landed. The memory of a certain human having made a much larger leap with biotics manifested itself somewhere in the back of his mind. If push came to show, he could dampen the landing, but with that drell watching, he didn’t want the glow of biotics to reveal his position.

Saren scanned the rooftops for the drell. When he couldn’t spot it, he hurried up to the edge and jumped across. The soft ‘thump’ when he landed didn’t alert any guards, and he continued towards a latch on the roof. If he could pry a small opening, he could drop a small microphone inside. Something red reflected on his goggles. It only took a second to realize what it was, but it was already too late. A small projectile impacted on his neck and embedded in his hide. Saren felt the world spin, then everything went blank.

 

**2178 CE – October 13 th – The Citadel – Garrus’ Apartment – 16:25 PM**

Since waking up an hour ago, Shepard had finally managed to escape the clutches of her clingy turian and order some Thessian takeout with the companion meal for a turian partner. Garrus’ stomach was growling like a small angry animal, but he was reluctant to leave her alone for even a moment. At some point, he was going to cuddle her to death, she was sure of it. Some of it might have to do with the bonding, and some of it with the fact that the poor guy was completely exhausted. Apparently the turian males needed a long time to recuperate when they used up their ‘reserves,’ so to speak. They ate in relative silence, smiling and trying to touch each others food for fun. After they’d finished the last morsel, Shepard cleaned the cartons away and insisted they remain on the couch. She wasn’t as tired as Garrus, and would not lie in bed all day.

“How about a movie?” she said.

“Sure. Whatever you want is fine with me,” Garrus said and yawned.

“You’re gonna fall asleep after 10 minutes of watching, aren’t you?”

“Good guess.”

“Okay, why don’t you go take a nap, and I’ll watch the movie alone. I’m okay with that.”

“Not letting you out of my sight,” Garrus said and nudged her over to the corner of the couch. He then laid down and put his head in her lap.

“Besides, I like being near you. You’re soft, and you smell nice.”

Shepard peered down on him.

“Smell nice? What are you impl-.. Are you smelling what I think you’re smelling? Move!”

“Noooh!” he protested and hung on. “It’s natural, you human prude.”

“Gods, Garrus..”

“You smell like me, and I smell like you. Let me have this, I know you can’t go around smelling like a turian outside, but please.. In here, you’re my.. my.. uuh.. ”

“I know.”

She relented and sat back, letting him curl up beside her. The Blasto movie was unpaused, and Shepard had to admit to herself she quite enjoyed being besieged by Garrus like this. When her fingers began running along his fringe, he gave a soft purr and sighed. Shepard smiled. There were worse things than an amorous turian out in the real world.

 

**2178 CE – October 13 th – Omega – Dank Cellar – 16:45 PM**

The cold water thrown in his face made Saren wake with a start. Around him, a group of mercenaries laughed. In front of him, the familiar figure of Despan Vyrnnus flared his mandibles.

“Well, well. Saren Arterius, caught like a fledgling hunting for females. How disappointing.”

Saren blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Judging by the smell of rust and oil, they were underground. Despite his precarious situation, he wasn’t afraid. There would come an opportunity to escape, and if it didn’t, well.. Death was inevitable.

“Think Spectre training will hold up against one of these?” Vyrnnus said and held up a fringe hammer. He bent forward and tapped the two pronged metal fork against Saren’s side horns.

“Always wanted to try one. Krogans know what they’re doing when it comes to pain.”

“I get the other one,” a batarian in a shoddy blue armor hissed. “I owe him one for Solem Dal’Serah.”

“Yeah, get his eyes! Fucking Spectres!”

“Why are we keeping him alive?”

“Kill him!”

“Rip his arm off.”

“Pull his armor down, we can all have a go at that ass.”

Vyrnnus held up an arm.

“Wait. The colonel wants to interrogate the Spectre himself. What happens afterward is…up in the air.”

The room fell silent.

If Saren hadn’t been afraid earlier, he did feel a certain amount of worry now. If the mere mention of this person could quieten a room full of murderous mercenaries , his actual presence would be.. unpleasant.

In the background, a drell tore from the shadows and walked towards the exit.

Vyrnnus turned around. “Where are you going?”

“I find and kill people. I do not ‘toy’ with them.”

“Never knew drells to be soft,” a batarian scoffed.

In the blink of an eye, the drell spun around on his axis, and a knife twanged in the batarian’s helmet. The assassin still faced the door.

“Not soft. Efficient. Get information, then kill. It’s work. Not amusement. Caught the turian. No information extraction requested. Work done.”

“Killjoy,” Vyrnnus said. “Get your pay from Karep.”

“I will.”

The drell left.

 

The batarian with the knife sticking out of his helmet unclipped the chin strap and pulled it out.

“Damn greenskins.”

After about an hour, the atmosphere down there had changed from aggressive to fearfully tense. Voices were heard from behind the door where the drell had disappeared, and boots stomped around on top.

Saren had begun discreetly flexing his fists to try and loosen the bonds. These bastards had clapped suppressor bracelets on him, and he wasn’t violently unstable like that Shepard girl. Because of that, he wouldn’t be able to resist those shocks for long. The worst part was that Vyrnnus had clipped his finger talons to stop him from clawing at the ropes. Spiteful asshole, Saren thought. This insult would be repaid in kind.

Finally, voices from the upper floor became fewer, and Vyrnnus twitched his mandibles nervously. Footsteps came down the stairs, and everyone in the room edged away from Saren. Whomever was coming, commanded a lot of fear. The door swung open, and a figure in a red and black armor strode in, flanked by two bodyguards. From the shape of the armor, it could be an asari, a batarian or a human, or even a large salarian. The mercs respectfully bowed their heads, and to Saren’s surprise, even Vyrnnus looked down. Whomever this was, he or she held the fear of the troops.

“Saren Arterius.”

A voice scrambler was embedded in the helmet.

“Your actions have caused me some trouble. Your friend here speaks highly of you, when not cursing your name and spirit.”

The leader in the red armor nodded to Vyrnnus.

“Care to share who you are?” Saren said politely. “Since we’re all friends here.”

This was met with laughter from all sides.

“I don’t think we’re that intimate yet,” the leader said. “I see my associates have brought some fine relics from the krogan wars. Perhaps you would like to a demonstration?”

“I’m afraid I’ve already seen it. Perhaps some other time?”

Saren’s tugging had loosened the ropes around his wrists a little, but he was still bound to the chair. Not to mention he had no idea which of these seedy mercs carried the controller to his bracelets. The safest bet was Vyrnnus, but one never knew.

“And _I_ am afraid that isn’t one of your options,” the red armor said and knelt down directly in front of him.

“Tell me, Saren.. How far did your investigation get you? What do you know?”

“That you keep unsavory company,” Saren said and stared at Vyrnnus. “ Maybe we can arrange something better.”

“We, as in the Spectres, or the traitors at the Citadel, or your precious Hierarchy?”

There was an edge to the voice which hadn’t been there a minute ago. Saren knew pain wouldn’t be far away.

“Traitors?” he tried. “Why are they -..Aaarghh!”

A long spike protruded from Saren’s thigh, and the leader nonchalantly rose up.  
“Still trying to interrogate me, Spectre. Maybe this will remind you. I’m asking the questions here.”

He motioned to Vyrnnus, and the turian struck Saren with the back of his armored hand. Saren felt his nose plate break, and a blue streak ran down his mouth plates.

“Done courting, are we?” Saren spat.

From the opposite side, another batarian struck him a second time.

The mercs laughed again. Then the lights went out.

 

**2178 CE – October 13 th – The Citadel – Garrus’ Apartment – 18:25 PM**

Like Shepard had thought, Garrus had fallen asleep eight minutes into Blasto, happily rolled up in her lap. There was something strangely endearing in his insistence to stay close, and she figured it was his indirect way of telling her that her presence was very much wagnted.

She’d kept stroking his fringe and his mandibles in his sleep, and his response had been sleepy purrs and soft growls, depending on where she touched. There was a peace in this strange situation Shepard had rarely felt before. Even when he slept, he made her feel safe. Garrus had always preferred things to be black and white, good or bad. To him, their new relationship was good. He did not want to see the gray encroaching around them on all sides, and she adored him for it, even if she saw the spectrum of shades all around them. For a brief moment, she considered if leaving him would be better for him, for both of them, but her internal feeling of obligation quashed it. It was too late for regrets. If she hadn’t wanted this, she should’ve never waited for him at the police station. Not gotten into the taxi with him. Not accepted his touch, nor his affections. And last but not least, she wasn’t that selfless. Garrus was hers now, as she was his.

“What are you thinking about?” Garrus opened one eye and flicked a mandible at her.

Shepard ran her finger down his nose plate.

“You. Us. The world.”

“Heavy stuff.”

“Yeah...”

“Want to think about it in my arms?”

Shepard chuckled.

“Is this another ploy to get me into bed, Vakarian?”

“Always.”

“At least you’re honest about it. Yeah, why not.”

Garrus got up unsteadily, and she took his hand and guided him towards the bedroom.

“Still tired?”

“A little,” he admitted with a hum. “But I’m having a great time.”

“Don’t you mean _had_?”

He stopped and pulled her close enough for their foreheads to touch.

“No. I mean now. Any moment with you, Jane. You have to know that.”

Again, Jane felt the draw between them.

“I know, Garrus. I feel the bond too.”

His mandibles fluttered happily and Garrus swung his hips with great fervor when he strolled beside her to the bedroom.  

 

**2178 CE – October 13 th – Omega – Dank Cellar – 18:47 PM**

From instinct, Saren had thrown himself sideways, forcing the chair and himself to fall over on the floor. Above him he heard the shot from a handgun pass though the space he’d occupied seconds ago. A series of flash bangs went off inside the room, and the blinding light left everyone in the room with dancing white spots flickering on their retinas and clutching their ears. Then the coughing started, and Saren realized someone had released riot gas as well. People stepped on him several times, and fighting broke out when nobody could find the way out.

“Find the Spectre!” Vyrnnus shouted in the dark. “Who has the controller?”

“Find the intruder,” the figure in red armor yelled, and the mercs started to break down the door.

Above him, Saren could see through teary eyes a figure in a breathing mask bend down with a knife. He tried to rip himself loose from the ropes, but the figure quickly bent down and sliced him free. Under all the shouting from the batarians, Saren heard a low hum.

_That_ _cocky_ _bastard._

“With me,” the other turian whispered and yanked him to his feet.

A batarian had found them, feeling the floor in the dark, but before he could shout out, his throat was cut.

“Suppressors,” Saren whispered.

“Can you take the pain?” the masked turian asked.

“Yes!”

Saren’s wrists shook with an intense electrical shock as the bracelets were cut, but he was finally free. At last, the door gave in, but the enemies were not outside, Saren thought darkly. They were already inside.

“Where is the Spectre!” Vyrnnus called again.

“Right here,” the two of them answered in unison.  
The masked one opened fire and Saren let loose a devastating reave, hitting the closest batarian straight in the face. There was a short satisfying bursting pop as his brain liquefied, and the force of the biotic attack forced the viscous material out of his quivering nose.

“Out! Out!” the red armored leader shouted and was closely followed by Vyrnnus, who had the wherewithal to fire blindly behind him, hitting several of his own people to facilitate his own escape.

Saren snarled when he became aware of how deep the spike in his thigh went. He could no longer run.

“Follow them,” he barked to the masked turian.

“Not leaving you behind, Saren. Reinforcements are coming. I couldn’t take out all of them before.”

“Spiritsdamned pup, why couldn’t you-..”

“Complain later,” the turian said and unceremoniously hoisted Saren over his cowl and ran out of the room.

Above ground, their enemies had regrouped and opened fire as soon as the pair surfaced.

“See that remote on my belt?” the turian called to Saren, who was hanging upside down. “Press it.”

Saren swore under his breath, but nevertheless pressed the remote, setting off an impressive display of miniature bombs around the warehouse. While the batarians screamed and ducked into cover, the other turian ran the only safe route out of there.

“Wait,” Saren called out. “That guy in the red armor! We have to get him!”

“Too well guarded,” the other turian wheezed under his mask. “We’ll get him next time.”

From his hanging position, Saren could barely make out a red figure limping out against the smoking wreckage of the building with a whole retinue behind him. With his injury, there was no chance of winning this fight now. Saren swallowed some soot from the burning building. His enemies had got the better of him this time. It would not happen again, he promised the spirits in a silent oath and spat bitterly.

The humiliating taste of defeat was much like the taste of ash in his mouth.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Garrus and Shepard wallows in the aftermath of sex, and it's up to Saren to bring the plot forward. Who is this mysterious character in red armor. Who is the masked turian? At least one will be revealed/confirmed next chapter. :D
> 
>  
> 
> (Still on overtime, guys, so still not back on the weekly schedule.)


	78. A new plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saren and his guest discuss a new plan of action, and Garrus ventures into the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got a beta-reader, so if you see any mistakes, blame Garrus_Vakarian_N7, he's your cute customer service representative for complaints. :)  
> Ps: And it's his fault this story got so late as well. He'll be receiving your complaints right now. :D

**2178 CE – October 13 th  – In Orbit – The Infiltrator – 22:47 PM**

As he fastened the last compress on the wound in his thigh, Saren took a sharp breath at the stab of pain from the movement. Being carried all the way to the docks had wounded his pride as well. That fledgling always took too much upon himself, and he’d soundly ignored every protest from Saren. Somewhere in the bottom of his hurt self-esteem Saren knew it had probably been the right decision. The mercenaries were probably conducting a spirits damned grid-search on Omega to find them, and Aria could not stop an entire paramilitary battalion on her own.

The door on the small med-bay slid open, and a large red-plated turian strode in. He hummed affectionately when he saw Saren. If they hadn’t been alone, Saren would’ve chastised Nihlus for his forthright display of affection, but as it were, he welcomed the gesture.

“Pup,” he hummed back as Nihlus came close and pressed his forehead to his.

“Father,” Nihlus answered with a smile.

“You were incredibly reckless back there,” Saren said and patted his son’s cowl half approvingly and half chastising.

“Says the old turian who nearly got himself sent to the spirits,” Nihlus shrugged. “You know you’re our best shot at unraveling this conspiracy. That means you have no right to put yourself in this kind of danger.”

Saren blinked. “I have no right? You overstep, Nihlus.”

“Really? Make an official complaint to the Council, and inform them of your side activities the past few years. I’m sure they’d be delighted to know you’ve been tracking their activities too.”

The younger turian cocked his head and gave his father a knowing smile. Saren merely grumbled and crossed his arms. Where had the boy learned his manners?

“Did you get anything useful from your bodycam at least,” he finally said, skirting the issue of oversteps.

“I think so,” Nihlus said. “I wanted to review that with you, though.”

“To my office, then,” Saren said and got up, careful not to put his full weight on the leg.

“Want me to carry you?” Nihlus said innocently, and his father rapped him on the cowl.

“Blatant disrespect for your elders,” he said, giving his son a rare smile.

“But a lot of love,” his son replied, and Saren had to close his mandibles to avoid revealing how much that comment pleased him. No need to put airs in the boy’s head. A boy in his early thirties, but still.

They proceeded to walk together to the captain’s office, and Saren was heedful of keeping his relationship with Nihlus hidden even from his sparse crew. Nihlus himself wasn’t altogether happy with that arrangement, but Saren was adamant. Nobody outside their most intimate circle knew of their true affiliation, and on Saren’s part, that circle extended to his now deceased brother Desolas, Mordin Solus and Benezia. And whatever snippets of revealing info that thieving bastard Rolan Quarn had managed to scrounge up, he thought darkly. One day, he’d have a small and intimate chat with the defector about that, but for now, Rolan seemed satisfied to merely drop small hints of what he might know.

“Sit down, old turian,” Nihlus said as Saren limped towards his chair, and Saren cast him a disapproving glance. Nihlus ignored him and connected his omni-tool to the screen.

“This is from the main entrance.”

From the higher vantage of the vid-maker, Saren saw how closely guarded the facility had been, and shuddered. The front gate teemed with the unmarked Salarian soldiers, and Saren shook his head.

“I keep thinking of those mercs as soldiers, but as far as I know, the Eclipse does not employ that many former army vets from Sur’Kesh.”

Nihlus smiled.

“Well spotted. That’s correct, they do not.”

“Then where have they found all these recruits?”

“They’re not recruits,” Nihlus said. “They’re actual army. Salarian special forces, but not STG.”

“That’s not...” Saren stopped himself.

He was about to say impossible, but he knew Nihlus, and the younger operative wouldn't have said it without having confirmed the info.

“Knew you’d be skeptical, so I took the liberty of knocking one of these guys out,” Nihlus said and pulled out a small emblem from the inside of his armor.

“Took this off the guy, hidden inside his armor.”

Saren stared in disbelief at the insignia.

“The elite guard of the Dalatrass of Mannovai!”

“I’m impressed.”

“I’m older, not senile, pup.”

Nihlus laughed, and Saren hummed against his will. Only Nihlus could get away with this disrespecting teasing.

“I have not found evidence of direct salarian involvement earlier,” Saren said and tapped his talons on the desk. “That’s unexpected.”

“From my findings, that’s a more recent development,” Nihlus said. “The Dalatrasses have held a secret council on the recent developments on Tuchanka. Krogan unity is not appreciated on Sur’Kesh and its colonies.”

“Damned Urdnot Wrex,” Saren sighed. “Who would’ve thought that old pirate would return home to become the great unifier of the Krogan clans.”

Nihlus flicked a mandible. “Better him than his brother.”

“Perhaps.. But with those two combined, I fear for the future. At least there’s no cure for the genophage yet, that would destabilize the entire galaxy.”

Nihlus sat down on the corner of the desk.

“Fast forwarding a bit to the meeting,” he said and swiped the omni-tool.

The salarian dignitaries were clearly the guests in this meeting, and Saren again saw the figure in the red armor. That damn guy was like a phantom, only visible when he wanted to be.

“No sound?” he asked.

Nihlus thrummed while continuing to stare at the screen.

“Unfortunate.”

“I had to keep the device as undetectable as possible. They were scanning for listening devices. And I’m not even talking about the Drell assassin skulking the rooftops.”

His mandibles snapped to his face as Saren remembered how he’d been sniped by that green menace.

“Freelancer,” he said. “After he caught me, he got paid and left.”

“Sounds like he was hired specifically for you,” Nihlus said.

“Vyrnnus,” Saren spat. “He knew I’d be chasing him.”

“Talented guy,” Nihlus shrugged.

“Don’t go there, Nihlus.”

“Yes, father.”

Despite his answer, Saren could hear the smile in Nihlus’ voice, and wondered why he didn’t get more upset with his son. Instead, it amused him.

“Keep going with the vid.”

The mercenaries from the red phantom’s army were respectful towards the new faction. Like a courtship, Saren thought. For now, they wanted something from the Salarians. Intel, military support, political backing, it could be anything. The threads were there, but they were still not connected to a central hub visible to Saren’s eye. This phantom was the key. He’d come out of hiding for the chance to get at Saren, but next time it would be much harder. Who knew how far his organization had burrowed into the political structures on the Citadel and the Hierarchy. Who could they rely on not to have been corrupted? Not even Jondum Bau, their newest Spectre, could be relied upon if the Salarians were getting involved.

“They’re not invested yet,” Nihlus said, mirroring Saren’s thoughts. “That red guy is trying to get them aboard.”

“I agree.”

“Vyrnnus was inside the Hierarchy, with connections to primarch Fedorian. These Salarians will take whatever message they were given to the Dalatrass, and she may or may not bring the rest of them into the fold.”

“Yes,” Saren said simply.

“You really don’t have to talk my ear off like that,” Nihlus quipped, but continued before Saren could say something scolding.

“We don’t know how many people they’ve got infiltrating the Hierarchy or the Citadel. It may be time to find some people of our own, outside this guy’s influence.”

Again, Saren was struck with the similarities in their thinking.

“Any suggestions?”

“Not yet, but I’m going back to the Citadel soon. Might find something interesting at C-Sec,” Nihlus said.

“Nihlus, no. No more rigid Hierarchy boys with their inflexible ways.”

“Always so negative. I’d never recruit a Fedorian follower, have some faith in me.”

“I do have faith in you, except when it comes to females.”

“Father, please. That was a one time thing, and she wasn’t that bad.”

“Strange how a one time thing resulted in _two_ fledglings.”

“Spirits work in mysterious ways,” Nihlus said sagely.

“I doubt they interact with our world in such a physical matter. How are the girls?”

Nihlus paused the vid and turned around.

“The girls are fine. Vetra has begun to ask too many questions about my job, the nosy little brat,” he said with a big grin. “Sidera is more timid, but very sharp. Your silver plates and my red hide. She’ll break hearts, that one.”

“Hrrmmph,” Saren said. “Glad to hear it.”

“They talk about you all the time. You should come by more often.”

“That’s too much of-..”

“..a risk, yeah, yeah, you keep saying that. But what are you fighting for, if not family? And please don’t say the galaxy.”

“Fine, then I won’t,” Saren said. “Continue the vid.”

“Sure, but I don’t think there’s much more.

On screen, the polite exchange continued for a long time, but they could discern little new with no sound. Finally, the Salarians left and the phantom went down to the cellar.

“The rest is just me placing bombs and throwing smoke grenades,” Nihlus said and stopped the vid.

“I’ll give a copy to ensign Arista, see if she can identify anyone else down there.” Saren leaned back and rested his head. “Your idea about recruiting is not a bad idea, though. We need some insiders of our own.”

“I’m not just a pretty face,” Nihlus smiled.

Saren sighed. “Yes, yes. But I still think looking inside the Hierarchy might be a problem.”

“So, who or what did you have in mind?”

Saren spun a small leftover piece of gauze between his talons.

“If our friends betray us, perhaps it would be better looking for allies among our enemies.”

“Convoluted, even for you, father.”

Saren gave Nihlus a knowing smile.

“You’re still limiting yourself too much, Nihlus. Holding a civilian hostage to escape that Justicar was a good start, but you still have reservations for the extreme. You need to work on that.”

“Spectres should be admired and aspired to,” Nihlus said in the voice of someone who’d had this discussion many times before.

“They should be feared and respected,” Saren said. “When the Infiltrator arrives, people know to give way.”

“And they will also scurry away with any information they might have.”

“A wager then?” Saren chuffed. “I say I can find out who this phantom is with my methods before you can.”

Saren pretended to sigh, then hummed his agreement.

“We have a wager. Perhaps the old will learn something from the new generation this time.”

Saren raised a sarcastic brow plate to his son. Nihlus was good, but he wasn’t that good. Not yet.

 

**2178 CE – October 19 th  – The Citadel – Garrus’ apartment 01:15 AM**

“I’m not sure I want this,” Garrus said with a suspicious stare at Jane. “Looks dangerous.”

Jane grinned at him.

“Don’t be a wimp, turian. I know you lick females to get them aroused, why would this be any different?”

“Lick, yes. Putting the.. the whole thing in your mouth is.. weird.”

“The _thing_ ? Really?”

“Are you sure all those vids are real? I mean, even your blunt teeth could hurt a guy,” he said and ignored her.

She sighed and sat herself across his lap.

“Garrus, I would never suggest any kind of sexual activity that would hurt you. This is perfectly normal. Even the Asari do it. Never been with an Asari?”

“No,” he mumbled. “I prefer turians. Or humans..”

“Aaaww.. You’re cute,” she cooed and gave him a kiss. “This is our last night together before I ship out again. I want to do something special.”

“It’s always special with you,” Garrus replied and leaned his crest to her forehead.

“Aw.. Careful, or I might never leave.”

“Careful, or I might never let you,” he chuffed back.

They sat like that for a long while. Finally, Jane relented.

“All right, Garrus. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Garrus felt a small sting of relief, and to his surprise, one of disappointment.

“Ermm.. We could.. we could try..? If you promise to stop if it hurts.”

“You sure?” Jane said with a mischievous smile.

For some reason, Garrus felt the ground wobble under him. “Yes.”

Jane slipped from his lap and knelt down between his legs. Since they were in the bedroom, he was already naked, but she was wearing a black and blue chest harness and matching panties which Garrus found very alluring. He grabbed some pillows and sheets and stuffed them behind his back so he could easily lean back and still watch what she was doing. Well, he did know what she was going to do, he’d seen plenty of vids about it, but he’d always figured it was like that spin-off movie from Fleet and Flotilla, Arks and Armadas, where all the male turians had very long frin ges and the females had almost glittering plates. Fake or manipulated. But getting your seam licked was always arousing, and Garrus wondered how it would feel with a human. His groin plates were already open for her, and he shifted into a comfortable position.

She cast another glance at him, wiggled her eyebrows and let her pink tongue run slowly across the closed seam. Oh! Garrus swallowed loudly. If he wasn’t concentrating, this would be another very fast experience, like their first time together. His cock was already protruding from the protective sheath, and Jane gently lapped at every inch that emerged. The contrast between the eager pink tongue and the rising blue cock was breathtaking, and he had little enough breath to spare already. Garrus began to claw at the tattered bed again. A stray thought in his mind reminded him that it was in shambles and he had to invest in a new one. Now what was that name of the furniture shop on Zakera, it was… OH! Jane licked around the tip of his cock, letting her tongue play on his tapered head for a while, before she slipped the first thread of it in her mouth. The warmth and the softness shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did, and Garrus let out a gasp. Jane stopped and looked up at him with big eyes. The only thing he could do was to flare his mandibles and try and nod encouragingly, because the sight of her gazing at him with all that blue in her mouth made him want to come on the spot. Luckily, she understood what he wanted to say and kept going. That is, kept filling her mouth with more and more of him, and Garrus’ mandibles hung slack from his face. And he’d almost said no to this? He was an idiot! Jane began to bob her head slowly up and down while her tongue wriggled the underside of his dick, making him squirm in his seat. He had no idea what he was supposed to do, if he was supposed to touch her, if he was even allowed, could he thrust, anything at all, he just had to lay there and accept all the intense pleasure she gave him. Every time her lips slipped over a threaded ridge he wanted to whine, and there were a lot of those on his cock.

Garrus burrowed his talons in the mattress again, not caring that he made new holes, he was going to throw out the damn thing anyway, since it clearly couldn't handle normal sex. He finally found a position that allowed him to watch Jane freely while he at the same time had some control over himself. She bobbed, licked, worked him with her hands and let her fingertips play on his knot, and Garrus loved every second of it. Jane seemed to like it too, which was a huge bonus for him. Except for that sly twinkle in her eye he spotted a second ago, he could swear she was the sweetest thing in the world. Garrus closed his eyes and leaned back, knowing that he was in control of his body, and would not waste this opportunity of having Jane use those amazing human tricks on her. At least, that’s what he believed, until Jane began to hum with his deep in her mouth. Garrus felt the vibrating hum travel up through his dick, and it was almost like a Turian’s orgasmic hum hitting him straight in the pleasure center of his brain, and he lost any semblance of control. There was no time to warn her, and he shot his ejaculation straight into the back of her throat.

Garrus felt the surprise orgasm down to his toe talons, his legs shook and he barely registered the muffled cough further down.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Jane said with a strangled voice. “A little warning would’ve been appreciated.”

“Nnnghh..”

“I don’t speak brain - addled turian,” she smiled and reached for the water bottle beside the bed and took a sip.

“Good?”

“Nnngh..” was the only thing Garrus managed to say. Usually, he’d get a warning before his orgasm, but Jane’s humming had bypassed the normal buildup and Garrus felt like his brain was fried. In a very good way.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said and rolled up beside him. “Don’t hog all the sheets, greedy turian.”

“Mmh, you can have them all,” Garrus muttered and pulled one out from under him. “I got you.”

Before she could protest, he’d wrapped his arms around her and covered them both under the sheets.

“This was amazing. You’re amazing,” he said against her hair.

Jane rolled into him and pressed against him as best she could.

“Not so bad yourself, Garrus.”

“Mph..”

They fell asleep in each others arms, and Garrus had never known such peace of mind.

 

**2178 CE – October 19 th  – The Citadel – Garrus’ apartment 08:12 AM**

“So where’s this big assignment to?” Garrus asked as he tried to flip a pancake as easily as she’d done earlier. It landed in the pan, but only halfway flipped over.

“Almost,” Jane smiled while setting the table. “I dunno. Some outpost somewhere. I’ve been reassigned again from Captain Anderson’s command. Apparently, I’m not so toxic anymore to the Alliance that I can be transferred without much problems.”

“Is that a promotion?” Garrus asked and deftly turned the victimized pancake with a spatula instead.

Jane sighed. “No, I don’t think so. David is going to work with border patrols in the Traverse, which means more contact with turians. So in order to prevent incidents..”

“You’re being assigned to some backwater colony patrol to keep you out of sight,” Garrus finished. “We do the same thing in our military.”

“I’m not surprised,” Jane said. “I probably would’ve done the same thing if I was Alliance brass. It still sucks, though.”

“Not as good as you last night,” it slipped from Garrus, and Jane laughed.

“So, you’re falling for the human’s seductive ways, eh? Easy prey,” she said and patted his hind plates.

Garrus wriggled under her hand and hummed.

“Yes. More of that, please.”

“When I get my next shore leave, you’ll get as much as you want.”

“Promises promises.” Garrus maneuvered the stack of pancakes to the table, carefully putting the levo and the dextro plates on different sides, and Jane carried the different juice packets and did the same.

“I actually like this, us making food together,” he said and sat down.

“So do I.”

“Who’s that new guy that keeps messaging you all the time?” he said and began putting food on his plate. This was a weird human dish, but the Asari in the shop had assured him that it was perfectly good for Turians too, if they only kept to dextro ingredients.

“Who, Toombs? A corporal from my new ship. He’s supposed to help me get all my things transferred, I think he takes his duties a little too seriously.”

“You’re famous, I think he wants to make a good impression.”

“Infamous, you mean?” Jane said and poured some jam on the pancakes. Garrus recoiled in horror.

“Whaat? I’m a biotic, I need the calories. Besides, I’ve been working out hard this past week,” she said and winked.

Like a fledgling, Garrus’ chest swelled with sexual pride.

“Thanks.”

“No, thank you. It’s been like.. I’ve come home, in a way. I don’t know why, I just..”

“Feel at peace,” Garrus finished.

“Precisely.”

“I wish you could stay,” Garrus said and held out a hand over the table.

She took it and smiled. “I know. So do I. But I can’t really apply for C-Sec, and I don’t think I’m ready to give up on all my training yet. I don’t want to be a civilian yet. And I think the worst is over in the military now.”

“Probably,” Garrus said. “Promise to message me often.”

“Promise.”

They smiled at each other and continued their breakfast.

 

**2178 CE – October 19 th  – The Citadel – Zakera Ward – 10:19 AM**

Before she boarded, Shepard had decided to a little bit of last minute shopping on the Citadel. Nothing big, just some snacks and maybe a new mod for her rifle. When she stopped in front of a large advertising board for a weapon shop, the board greeted her in a muted voice. Clearly, even the shops around here didn’t want others to know who they were selling to.

“Greetings, Jane Shepard. How would you like a brand new shotgun, colored steel to go with your hair?”

“No thanks, do you sell mods?”

“We do indeed,” the voice announced, and stopped. The silence was followed with a sudden light flash that almost blinded Shepard, and she thought she saw a strange Geth shaped creature in the billboard for a second, before the shop advertisement was back.

“Shepard lieutenant, we have many mods,” the advertiser continued.

“What?” Shepard was still reeling from the flash.

“We carry an assortment of mods-...”

“No, before that. My name.”

“Jane Shepard.”

Shepard looked around, but nobody was watching her. Strange shit. She was probably just tired from all the sex.

“Never mind, I think I’ll be going. Bye.”

She turned around towards the elevators, and didn’t see the small flashing image on the bottom of the billboard. It was the flickering light of a Geth lens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got a new one out for you guys, hope you've not all run away and joined another ship just when we're getting to some juicy stuff for shakarian. :D  
> Oh, and I even crammed some plot in there too. I'm so nice.


	79. Watching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus tells some unwanted truths, and Shepard is convinced someone is after her.

**2178 CE – November 04 th  – The Citadel – Zakera Ward – 08:21 AM**

For the past few weeks, Garrus had been unable to keep his subvocals suppressed. Every so often, a happy thrum escaped him, and he was peppered with questions on who was she, or he. He skirted the issue and deftly talked his way out of it, but he couldn’t contain his happiness for long before he was back at it. All those silly stories his mother told him about bonding were true. He did feel light as air, floating above all the troubles of the world. Every time he got a message from Jane that confirmed his status as her mate, his mandibles fluttered like a fledgling’s. A grown turian shouldn’t be this giddy, Garrus was sure of it, but none of that mattered. Jane was his, and he was hers. There was no telling when she’d be back from patrolling, but at least she wasn’t on the front lines anymore.

 

A turian brushed past him, almost pushing him over.

“Hey, careful, buddy,” Garrus said.

The turian turned, and glanced at him. It was Chellick.

“Sorry. My shift just ended. I’m on my way home.”

Garrus immediately clamped down on his subvocals, then wondered why he did that. Yes, this turian used to date Jane, but why should he feel the need to hide that he was dating her now to Chellick? Chellick wouldn't spread it on, he’d not do that to her. Then again, he doubted Jane wanted him to shove it in Chellicks’ face. Too bad.

“Don’t worry about it. Go on home, you look beat.”

That made the other turian waggle his mandibles slightly.

“Thanks. Congratulations, by the way.”

Garrus raised a brow plate. “Why?”

“Heard you got a new girlfriend. Anyone I know? The guys have a betting pool.”

A small cough escaped Garrus.

“Eh… You know her, but I really doubt anyone has placed a bet on her.”

Chellick flared his mandibles.

“Really? Don’t tell me you’re banging uncle Pallin’s little flame? Because I know at least one bet on her.”

“No, not someone in a relationship.”

“Hmm.. Someone free. Vespia, the chef? She’s been eyeing you for a while.”

“Not her either.”

“Are you going to tell me, or keep your secrets?”

Garrus looked at Chellick. Jane wouldn't have lied to him about having a new mate. He shouldn’t either. After looking around the room to make sure the other turians were at a large enough distance, he leaned in and whispered to Chellick:

“Jane.”

Chellick’s expression went blank. Then his mandibles snapped to his jaw, but his subvocals were conspicuously absent.

“Hey now, I know this must be-...”

Garrus felt the blow before he saw it. The other turian had punched him straight in the crest, making Garrus reel backwards to regain his balance.

Chellick raised his fists and took a step towards him, when a large turian female with tawny plates and withered red markings slapped a large set of talons on his cowl.

“Hey, hey, hey! Whatever this is, we don’t solve it here! You’re lucky the captain is out. Take it to the ring!”

“But I don’t want-” Garrus began, then he looked around to all the spectators. Damn. The nathak was out of the pen. Chellick was still straining against instructor Veleria’s hand, but he knew better than to openly challenge her.

“All right,” he said. “The ring.”

Chellick was so furious he didn’t even manage to speak, he merely thrummed.

 

* * *

 

Up above in the command structure, a certain red-plated Spectre checked the surveillance feed and ran the two turians against their service roster. The beige turian had an impeccable track record, good connections to the Hierarchy, a respectable family and flawless reviews from his superiors. That silver turian, however.. Obstinate, high arrest rate, talented sniper, argumentative, known to sometimes cut corners by bribery and other less savory means, highly uncommon in a turian. And then there was that incident at the docks some weeks ago. Without hesitation, Vakarian had ordered the destruction of a shuttle full of hostages to prevent Saleon’s escape. Nihlus chuffed. Doctor “Heart” was a nice touch. He could still hear the shrill voice of Mordin on the omni-tool, swearing the idiocy of turian adherence to rules and regulations. Now the good doctor had to start his hunt all over again.

Nihlus pondered the problem of Vakarian’s background. With a father like that, the young prospect wouldn't be as anonymous as himself. To be fair, his red plates and intricate markings were getting him unwanted attention all the time, to his mate’s eternal grief, so perhaps that wasn’t such a handicap. And Saren made waves whenever he even thought about going somewhere. His mandibles twitched. It was probably best to see Chellick and Vakarian in action. The sparring ring had to be ready by now.

 

* * *

 

It was brutal.

Nihlus was genuinely impressed by the pair of them. This kind of full contact sparring was always messy, but despite getting a broken nose plate and scratched face plates, neither turian was willing to back down. By the sound of Chellick, the cause of the disagreement was very personal. The crowd cheered equally for both of them. Whenever Chellick got an elbow in they groaned in unison with Garrus, whenever Garrus managed to leg swipe his opponent, causing him to fall heavily on the mat they grunted with Chellick. By the look of it, their fighting styles were somewhat similar. Nihlus checked their files again. Gagarin Station for the both of them, just before the shutdown. How very odd, considering that was their current adversary’s starting point as well. Vyrnnus had wheedled his way into the primarch's good graces from his service on Gagarin.

The big female turian announced round four, and Nihlus looked up. The beige turian was breathing with some difficulty through his crushed nose, but his opponent had changed stance, revealing injury to one leg. Normally, the fight would’ve been called by now, but they were remarkably well matched, Nihlus thought. Almost like they’d had the same trainer.

 

The match went on for another four rounds, then Veleria called a draw. The pair of them were barely standing, but still, none of them admitted defeat. The gathered crowd booed and were ordered by an irate instructor to get the fuck out of her gym. Nihlus watched as Vakarian limped over to Chellick and reached out a hand to make peace. Chellick merely stared at him with glassy eyes, and turned away. Not with anger any longer, he looked emotionally defeated. When the beige turian walked out, Vakarian was left standing there, slowly letting his hand sink. Nihlus made his choice.

 

**2178 CE – December 27 th  – SSV Indomitable – Bunks – 03:02 AM**

The flashing light of her omni-tool told Shepard she had an incoming message. She’d just finished her shift and laid under her cover, so this was perfect timing on Garrus’ part. They’d been forced to use different names for sending messages to each other, since there was always the risk of the messages getting caught by the Alliance, but Garrus had refused to be called Gary. Or Gregory. Or even Gavin. He’d gone through the human name database himself, and he’d chosen Gabriel. Shepard didn’t much mind.

 

Hi Jane

_I hope you’re well and safe, and thinking about me whenever you have a moment. I think about you all the time. I have some things to tell you, and to confess. I’ll start with the confession. I got in a fight with Chellick a few weeks ago. He asked me who I was seeing, and it didn’t feel right lying to him, so I told him. We sparred a bit. I wish I could say we made up, but I think we’ve agreed to disagree and stay away from each other. I’m sorry if this upsets you, but I want you to know I didn’t start it. I didn’t manage to finish it either, which is sadder._

 

Here, Shepard stopped reading and rubbed her forehead. Turians.. There was little to be done about that. They sparred to resolve conflict and tension. There was no point in getting upset at this. She opened the message again.

 

_So, that new job opportunity I was telling you about? Or, not telling you about, since I really can’t talk about it. Looks like I’m getting it! I’ll need more training and evaluation, but I think it’s happening! I’m really excited! My dad is angry, and mom, well.. I don’t think that’s what she wanted for me. She thinks it too dangerous. (I didn’t tell them before I told you, my father knows everything.) When are you returning to the Citadel? Can you tell me? I really want to see you, but I know you’ve only been gone a few weeks. The smell of you have gone out of my bed. I don’t like that. Message me soon!_

 

_Your beloved Gabriel_

 

Shepard smiled at this. She wasn’t sure she should be creeped out by his reference to smell, or flattered. It was another turian thing. So many things, she thought, but she liked most of them.

“Hey, Shepard, what’s with that goofy grin?”

Toombs had arrived and dropped his gear in the foot locker by the bunk.

“I’d almost think you were talking to someone important.”

“Nah, I just caught sight of that ugly face of yours. Always makes me smile that you’re not my responsibility.”

“Fuck you, lieutenant,” he laughed. “When are you gonna tell us who he is? Or she, that would be better.”

“Not gonna happen, Chris. I keep my secrets.”

“Boring.”

“Whatever.”

Toombs dropped down on his bunk and yawned.

“Captain Harrison wants us to do another swipe over the eastern sector. There’s been several distress calls from that area of late, and he wants to make sure nobody’s left alone out there.”

“Why hasn’t this been announced shipwide?”

“Because my lieutenant is the captain’s favorite, lieutenant.”

Toombs accentuated the lieutenant-part just to rile her up, but Shepard smiled and shrugged it off. Some captains had favorites. She’d been the favorite of David Anderson, even though he tried to not make it obvious. Besides, she’d had enough fame for a while. If the captain wanted lieutenant Villanueva to get promoted and didn’t simultaneously push her own career into a hole, Shepard didn’t much mind.

“Ah, not even a scowl? Disappointing,” Toombs said. “We’re the first ground team and you don’t even care you might not get to see any action?”

“I’ve been the vanguard often enough,” Shepard said. “It’s time someone else had their turn.”

Toombs sighed and rolled on his side.

“You know, you’re nothing like the news vids make you out to be.”

“Thank the gods for that,” she replied and finished her message to Garrus.

It would still be some months before she could go back to the Citadel. Hopefully he hadn’t left the station before her return.

 

**2179 CE – January 15 th  – Shanxi docks – 06:12 AM**

“I can’t believe the captain ordered our team to stand guard,” Arral complained. “We really are on his shit list.”

“Knock that off, sergeant,” Shepard said as she signed for another crate of supplies. “Orders are orders.”

“Lieutenant Villanueva’s orders are much better,” corporal Yaw said quietly. “Her team meets the governor alongside the captain.”

“One more word about this, guys, and I swear I’ll PT all of you to death.”

It was said in a joking matter, but her squad knew better than to push further.

“Yes, Shepard.”

“Arral, take over. I need ten minutes.”

“Yes, sir.”

Shepard walked along the bow of the Indomitable until she reached the stairs leading up to the customs area. The vending machines should be just outside. It had been almost a year since Torfan, and her face still came up in newsreels whenever there was a strife with the turians. The short battle on that remote planet was used for everything it was worth, by both sides.

The vending machine looked normal, but something about these contraptions made her nervous lately. When they ID’d her, it was always some little niggle in the answer that gave her misgivings. There was the double flash, the long wait before she could actually get some nutri-bars to drop, and the shuffling of words. None of her squad had that problem, and Shepard was beginning to think she was paranoid. She pushed the screen for a berry-bar, and sure enough, the light flashed twice, the second with a red tinge.

“Shepard?!” someone called out behind her, and she had to stop herself from swinging her fist to meet the woman. First the creepy vending machine, now this.

“It is you, isn’t it? Lieutenant Jane Shepard, the hero of Torfan?”

Hero now, was it, Shepard thought. That was a first.

“Don’t know about the hero part, but yeah, I’m lieutenant Shepard.”

“Shepard-lieutenant,” the display said behind her.

Before she could turn around and glare at it, the woman continued her speech.

“I knew it. I’m sergeant Ashley Williams, ma’am. Honored to meet you.”

“Um,” Shepard said, baffled at this new development.

“When I heard your ship was docked here, I had to come and offer my respects. Those turians had it coming,” the woman continued.

“Who?” Shepard said alarmed. “The ones at Torfan?”

“All of them,” sergeant Williams said. “Listen, us grunts, we don’t care what the news say about your actions jeopardizing our relationship with the Hierarchy. There’s no relationship to be had with the turians, except one of blood.”

The images of dead turian friends spun in her head, and Shepard felt her anger rise like a tidal wave.

“Shepard-lieutenant, your berry refreshments are ready,” the vending machine piped behind her.

“That’s strange,” the sergeant said. “I’ve never heard that before.”

“I know,” Shepard said and spun around to look at the display. There was nothing abnormal with it now, and she turned back to the woman.

“Listen, Torfan was an unfortunate incident for all parties concerned, and us humans need to accept that the turians are suspicious of us because of that.”

“Yes, ma’am, just like we should be suspicious of them.”

“That’s not what I-...”

A small beep began to blare from Williams’ omni-tool.

“That’s my sister wondering where I am,” Williams said. “We’re here on… a sort of family memorial. Listen, I’m glad I had the chance to meet you. Maybe one day we’ll even serve together.”

“Maybe,” Shepard said with a polite smile. There was no point in ruining the woman’s day.

“Bye, lieutenant Shepard. Give’em hell from us, especially those damn turians.”

“Sure,” Shepard said waved to Williams as she left. She looked at the ground with a sinking feeling.

This was the imprint she’d left after Torfan. The turian killer. The implacable defender of humanity, regardless of the cost. If that was how her own people saw her, Garrus’ life would be in danger if the truth about them came out now. For some reason, she felt watched, and looked around. There was nobody there. When she bent down to pick up the nutri-bar, the red light flashed again. Shepard snapped.

“Who the fuck are you?! Why are you following me?” she shouted at the vending machine.

Quick as a lightening, the display flashed _We watch you._ It was so fast she wasn’t sure she’d really seen it.

Was this the Alliance keeping an eye on her? She doubted it was the Hierarchy. The whole thing made no sense. The nutri-bar was dropped in a nearby bin as she marched back to her squad. This whole colony was cursed, and the sooner they left the place of humanity’s greatest defeat, the better.

 

**2179 CE – January 24 th  – Citadel – The Presidium – 11:15 AM**

Garrus had waited in line for almost 20 minutes, and the queue had barely moved. Because of his sniper training, he had an almost infinite reserve of patience, but the sound of the wailing asari child with her mother at the front of the line was getting frustrating. It didn’t matter. Nihlus had given him some credits to upgrade his equipment, and this scope would fit perfectly on his Volkov. Despite being a few years old, it was still among the best rifles in the galaxy . Jane’s gift, and his pride and joy.

“It is you,” a female voice said beside him. “Hi, Garrus.”

He looked around only to see an old friend smiling at him. “Mevia? Hi! Long time no-.. What’s that?!” he said and pointed at her long flowing robes.

“This? Well.. I resigned from the army and joined the temple instead. I’ll tell you about it over lunch.”

“I’d love to hear it, but this queue is taking forever.”

“This?” Mevia said. “Come with me.”

She began shoving herself to the front of the line.

“Ritual in progress, coming through. We need to get there before he ships out.”

“Hey!” the asari barked.

The turian shopkeeper shooed her aside and bowed to Mevia.

“Lady Orestillan, how are you? In a bit of a hurry today?”

“Yes, I need to get to my rituals, time is short.”

“Of course, of course,” the pious turian said. “That’ll be 75 499 credits, officer.”

“Worth every one,” Garrus sighed and transferred the money. “Where is your temple? Want me to follow you to the service?”

“Oh, it starts in about 4 hours,” Mevia said when they were out of earshot of the shopkeeper. “Time is a relative thing.”

“Lying? That’s not very priestly of you.”

“It’s not lying, time is short and precious. I’d rather spend it with a friend than in a line at the Emporium .”

Garrus nodded. He understood her completely.

“So, uh.. How did you end up leaving the military? Last I heard, you were going to earth.”

Mevia guided them to a bench overlooking the lake and sat down.

“I did. Ivar’s parents invited me. I was so nervous, being a turian on earth after all that happened on and after Torfan. The humans on the ships kept giving me angry looks, but they stayed away. Perhaps they were afraid to start some political incident.”

“Probably,” Garrus admitted.

Mevia gazed over the water.

“When I landed the shuttle on earth, I was almost shaking. What if this was a trap? What if they would yell at me for marrying their son in secret? Perhaps there was no physical danger, but I was terrified. When they came for me, they were just two older humans with tired faces, water coming from their eyes, and they.. they hugged me. They held me like I was one of their own. I was family.”

She coughed to hide the sad thrum in her voice. “Shepard never told them what really happened on Torfan. I don’t think I’ll ever have the strength to tell them the truth. They took me to see Ivar’s childhood home, and his resting place. It was so peaceful, and so green. I’ve never seen the like on Palaven. They’d hung up the sign of the temple he belonged to by his stone. I sat there for hours, just talking to him, like he was there, asking him for his forgiveness. Garrus, I’ve never felt the presence of the spirit more profoundly than I did on that place. On Earth, of all places. Their spirits are much like ours, I think. I could feel his presence there. And his love. That’s when I decided I wasn’t going to war against the humans any more. I’d fight for peace between us. Even if I have to kill some people in the process,” she said with a sniff.

Garrus gave a low chuff. Mevia was still Mevia, even when draped in priestly robes.

“I take it your family wasn’t pleased?”

“They can bite my hind plates,” Mevia said. “This animosity between us and the humans is what cost Ivar his life. If I can help it, it will never happen again.”

Garrus thrummed in sympathy.

“It’s a worthy goal, Mevia. One that I will support at every given opportunity.”

“How is Shepard, by the way? Did you stay in touch?”

“She’s.. she’s fine, I think. The Alliance don’t want her on the front ranks anymore. She’s doing patrols at the borders of Alliance space, as far away from our borders as they can send her.”

Mevia laughed. “Figures. There are many among our ranks that want her and her mother dead.”

“Yes,” Garrus said sadly. “There is.”

“I’d like to meet her before I travel to Palaven to preach. When’s she coming back?”

“In a month or so. She’s not really allowed to say where they are, but she mentioned a new pioneer planet in the Shanxi region, and there’s only two in that vicinity, Fargone and Akuze. Could be either.”

“Does Shepard know you’re stalking her?” Mevia said with a smile.

“Erm.. yes.”

“Does she approve of it?”

Garrus hesitated, not wanting to lie. “Maybe.”

Mevia laughed again. “Well, if that’s true, good for you. Humans are very warm at night.”

“I’ll hopefully find out one day,” he said neutrally.

“Send me a message when she gets back,” Mevia said. “We can all have lunch and talk about old times.”

“I will,” Garrus promised.

After Mevia had left for temple, Garrus decided to sit a little longer to send a message to Jane. Mevia becoming a Spirit Priestess was too good a story not to share. His cowl itched, and he scraped it against the bench. Jane would soon be home and back in his arms, and he could tell her he was going to be a Spectre.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, but a new chapter is finally out. I've been working my ass off, and just when I thought I was out, they *pull* me back in..  
> Rumors say there won't be as much overtime in July, but I've said that so many times I hardly believe it myself anymore..  
> Anyways, enjoy this one. :D


	80. Akuze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The SSV Indomitable is hovering above Akuze on a routine mission, when the orders come in; The first ground team has gone missing, and Shepard and her new squad will have to go down to search for them..

**2179 CE – February 05 th  – SSV Indomitable – Mess Hall – 10:49 AM**

A glance at her omni-tool told Shepard that the main ground team had been gone for 5 hours. Normally this wouldn’t be out of the ordinary, but the distress call received over Akuze had been strange, to say the least. For one, they had seen little debris on the scanner. Second, the call came from a reconnaissance ship thought to be destroyed over a rebel planet in the Apien Crest months ago. How that ship had become stranded here was anyone’s guess. Shepard had shared her concerns with lieutenant Villan ueva before they went planetside, and she’d agreed to take some extra precautions. Her usual squad had been bolstered with 6 volunteers from the other squads, and Shepard had released sergeant Arral with only a minor twinge of reluctance. Of course they wanted to see some action. It was not their fault she’d just seen too much of it these past years.

“Not a word from the ground yet,” corporal Yaw said and sat down beside private Henderson.

“Think they’ll send anyone after them, Shepard?”

She shrugged. “Maybe, but Villa’s tough. I think she can handle it.”

Yaw leaned over the table. “I hear the captain’s wearing out those new boots pacing up and down the command center.”

“Yaw, pipe down. I’m not saving you from a spell in the brig if you’re overheard.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Shepard tried to hide a grin, but her squad knew their officer well enough to recognize they weren’t in any real danger of a reprimand. They continued to chatter and poke fun at each other while Shepard pretended she didn’t hear most of it.

When they’d finished eating, a small private appeared out of nowhere beside Shepard and saluted sharply.

“Lieutenant Shepard, ma’am. The captain wants to see you.”

“We’re up,” Henderson said.

“Knock it off, private. It might just be you’re all assigned to cleaning the privvies.”

“Uh-huh, riight. We’ll just be… waiting outside the armory.”

Shepard shook her head, but let it slide. In all likeliness, they would be sent down after Villanueva's team. It wouldn't hurt to be ready.

 

* * *

 

The captain received her in his office. The room was sparsely furnished, but Shepard noted some of the framed diplomas on the walls. Harrison was a decorated officer, and he’d earned this ship through numerous battles and skirmishes, by the looks of it. And yet, at this moment he was fretting and nervously tapping his hand on his thigh.

“There you are, lieutenant. As you might have surmised, we have a problem.”

“The ground team hasn’t returned, sir?”

“No. Nor have we been in contact with them for three hours. The last we heard was that they’d found a deep cave in the rocks and were going in to find the signal.”

“How would one of our ships end up in a cave? Doesn’t sound right, sir.”

“Precisely. We don’t know what you’ll find down there, but we need to find our people. Take your team, scout out the area and report back to me every 20 minutes. I need to know if I’m going to try an attack with the Indomitable or if I’m calling for backup.”

“She’s not really built for atmospheric combat, sir.”

“I know my ship, Shepard, but I’d risk it for my men and women under my command.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, sir. We’ll find them and bring them back safe.”

“Good, Shepard. I know you’re the type to get the job done. Take what you need and get on the shuttle.”

“Yes, sir.”

She saluted and walked out quickly. If Villanueva’s team had been missing for three hours, they needed to haul ass and get down there ASAP.

 

_**35 minutes later** _

The shuttle shook violently as they entered the atmosphere of Akuze, but Shepard and her crew barely noticed. The dim red hue that covered the surface of the planet, shone through the glass panes of the aircraft. The color reminded Shepard of Mars, but Akuze’s colors were more muted than those of their first colony in space. It looked dead, Shepard thought, but kept it to herself. Almost as hot as Palaven, but none of the vibrant wooden areas and dark green seas of Garrus’ home.

“Hey Shepard, why were you talking to that water dispenser?” Yaw said and checked his ammo bag again.

“It fought me for water,” Shepard said absentmindedly and mirrored his ammo check.

“What, like that vending machine on Shanxi?” Henderson added.

“And the vending machine on Sirona?” private Sirek said.

“And the one outside the gym aboard the Indo?”

“It’s a conspiracy, I tell you,” Shepard said with a smile. “Get ready, guys. We’re down beside team 1’s shuttle in 6 minutes.”

 

* * *

 

When the shuttle bay doors opened, there was a gush of hot air to greet their first visit to Akuze. The breeze was thick with sand and dust, and Shepard was glad their new helmets came with double filters. Lieutenant Villanueva’s shuttle was near, and they pulled out their weapons and approached carefully. The winds had blown out any tracks from the first unit, even with Villa’s team reaching close to 40 people. She motioned Yaw to open the shuttle, and the doors slid aside without protest. Nobody had apparently been back here since they left it. They checked the log and the camera, but nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Looks all right,” Henderson said.

“Yes, it does.”

Shepard didn’t like this. If they’d been ambushed, at least someone should’ve made it back into radio range, or tried to make their way back to the only escape available to them.

“Guess we better hoof it to the first site. Stay alert. After me, single file. Sirek, to the rear. Eyes in the back of your neck. I don’t want any surprises.”

“Yes, sir,” Sirek said and waited for the rest of them to pass.

12 people moving out in the open like this was vulnerable no matter what, but at least they weren’t going to be blown away by a single grenade. After checking their heading Shepard began marching towards the supposed crash site. The crater was no more than 15 minutes away, but in the middle of the sand filled valley surrounded by cliffs. It was at least a one-hour march to the rocky mountains surrounding this crater. As they marched, she couldn’t help but wonder how Villa had ended up in a cave from here.

Their progress was slowed by Shepard’s continuous halts to scan the area for enemies, and to report back to the captain as he’d requested. By the impatience in his voice it was easy to fathom that he wished them to proceed with more expediency, but Shepard had refused to do so. Whatever had befallen Villanueva’s team, Shepard wasn’t eager to share in a possible grisly fate, nor to lose another squad in battle.

 

“Look!” Henderson shouted. His sharp eyes had spotted a small pole poking sideways out of the sand 70 meters away.

“Halt!” Shepard called out. “Squad, down. Henderson, approach. We’ll cover you.”

“You got it, Shepard,” he said and gave a wide smirk to Yaw, whom looked sour for not making the observation first.

“Everyone, I want eyes on the horizon. Any movement, call it out,” Shepard ordered as Henderson went closer. His sidearm was out, and he took his time to make sure there were no traps under the sand.

“Looks like the rod on a tail rudder,” came Henderson over the comms. “Wait a minute...”

“Still holding here,” Shepard said and checked the horizon again with her heat scanner. A lot of distortions came in from the natural heat of Akuze, but she could see no movement.

“I think I see part of the body flaps of our ship under the sand,” Henderson continued. “Hang on, something’s off with the damage area.”

“What do you have, Henderson?”

“It’s more what I don’t have. It’s not broken or blasted off, it’s been sawed off.”

“What? I’m coming over. Yaw and Sirek, cover us.”

“Yessir.”

 

Shepard moved hurriedly even if she was crouched over, and was beside Henderson in less than a minute. He stepped aside and pointed to the wing parts buried in sand. Kneeling down, Shepard felt the edge of the wing flap. It was rough with several jagged cuts moving down the metallic panel. Like the slippings of a circular saw.

“Man made,” Henderson said.

“Man.. or another alien,” Shepard said and stood up.

She looked around the hostile desert environment.

“We know they were here, because they reported finding the crash site, but why didn’t they see this?”

The wind made small sand swirls on top of the newly formed dunes. Dunes that hid more than they revealed. Of course.

“Or maybe, they didn’t check all the debris, just the parts needed to confirm this is our ship. Easy to miss, if you’re choosing between so much wreckage.”

“The parts that are already disappeared.” Henderson nodded. “Sure. They were probably more worried that some of our people might be behind the beacon.”

“I think we can be pretty sure there aren’t any,” Shepard said. “Most likely, these are pirates looking to salvage some more Alliance equipment from us, and is using this as live bait.”

“Do we call in the Indo, or..?”

“I’ll report to the captain, but we’ll follow the route Villa and her men took. If we’re lucky, they’re pinned down somewhere or captured.”

“Yes, sir.”

 

**_47 minutes later_ **

Shepard had pushed her team as far as she dared, marching under the unforgiving desert heat of Akuze. If lieutenant Villanueva and her unit was still on Akuze, every minute counted, but showing up to a firefight with men ready to keel over wasn’t a good strategy.

As soon as they reached the rocky outcrops of the valley, she ordered a hydration break and gear check.

The squad thankfully sat down and hooked up their water canteens to their helmets and brushed dust and sand off themselves and their weapons. Shepard did likewise, but kept a sharp watch on their surroundings and tried to spot the cave Villa and her people had found. Captain Harrison got his report, and urged them to keep looking, promising immediate support if things should go wrong.

The landscape still felt wrong somehow, Shepard thought as she watched the valley. There was something disturbing about the way the sand swirls of this planet hid any evidence of those that came before them. Some of the larger dunes looked like they’d been formed by some other phenomena than the wind. They simply seemed too large to be formed by the desert wind’s natural landscaping.

“All right, up,” she ordered after ten minutes. “We need to find our guys.”

“I’ve seen three possible hollows in the cliffside,” Sirek said. We might find what we’re looking for in there.”

“Or we’ll find the ones looking for us,” Yaw said grimly.

“Come what may, we’ll be ready for it.” Shepard again signaled for a single line to follow her.

“We’ll scout your findings, Sirek. Onward.

 

The first opening was a slit in the cliff no more than one meter wide and nearly two meters high. The grounds inside the small cavity was sandy, but when Shepard stepped on it her foot slid to the side, and she jumped back. Her footprint was visible on the ground, formed by something dark red and… orange? She knelt down, hesitantly, and put a finger in the mysterious substance. The viscous liquid began to burn at her suit and she immediately began wiping it away on the rocks and sand.

Henderson came up behind her. “What did you find, lieutenant?”

“Don’t know,” Shepard said and stood up. “Fan out and defend. I’ll go inside.”

The small passage became even narrower the further in she got, and she spotted more of the dark red material on the sides. At closer inspection she came to realize it was coagulated blood. The orange on the ground remained a mystery. Four meters in she came to a dead end, and a dead soldier. It was one of theirs. A private, but she didn’t recognize him. One of Villa’s team. He had a gunshot wound in the back, and the orange liquid was splashed over his left leg, which was no longer a leg, but a festering mess of exposed bone and withering flesh. Shepard carefully backed out and called the men to her. A comms channel was opened to the Indomitable.

“Listen up. We have a dead marine in there. Shot in the back, and splashed with some sort of acid. We don’t know what kind of weapon made that last wound, but whatever our enemy is, don’t let it get near you. This guy managed to get out of the caverns, maybe some others are alive out there. Try calling on all available Alliance channels.”

The team knelt down and began hailing their missing comrades on every frequency they had, while captain Harrison did the same, with much wider range than they could hope for. There was no reply.

“Guess we better keep looking,” Yaw said.

“No two ways about it,” Shepard said. “To that second cave. Private Drew, private Sanchez, stand guard. Stay on the open channel, the minute you hear us get in a fight, call the captain for aid. If they’re jamming the cave, you’ll still be able to reach the Indo.”

The two privates looked a little miffed to be left behind, but Shepard gave them a stern glare and they chorused “Yes, sir” and lined up on either side of the cave entrance. Whatever had befallen Villanueva and her team would not take them as well.

 

Inside the cavern they could see more tracks in the sand covering the floor. The sweeping winds hadn’t reached inside to eradicate the trail. From what Shepard could discern, most of the footprints were heading back outside. Most. She knelt down again. One of the tracks was a large boot print with something that looked like two-pronged toes, like a big turian or a small krogan. Pirates, maybe. They’d pulled someone after them, judging by the double drag lines. The imprints stopped further in, where the sand became more sparse and the floor was covered with larger gravel.

“Be alert, guns out. We don’t know who’s waiting in there,” she said and pulled out her M-37 Falcon. “Don’t get ahead of me, these are explosive.”

“What about any prisoners?” Yaw whispered.

“I’ll try and shield them with biotics if I can, but we can’t risk getting doused with that orange gunk. It’ll eat through our suits like butter on hot metal.”

“Understood.”

 

They kept creeping further and further in with the only light source available to them being the helmet lights or gun sights. Shepard could feel the hairs on her neck stand up, and she wanted to hurry back outside and call an orbital strike on this whole place. That’s what she would do, if not for the small hints that some members of the first ground team might be alive. Already she regretted not having taken a holo of the footprint for posterity and proof. Now, someone might argue that the shifting sands had played a trick on her.

The cave twisted and turned, but according to the distance counter in her helmet sights, they hadn’t come more than maybe a 72 meters in before the roof started to rise and the passage widened. Shepard slowed the pace and signaled for the squad to be ready.

The cave had expanded into an underground chamber, but it didn’t look natural at all. For one, all the stalactites that had been above them this entire walk was gone.

In the flickering light of her helmet light, she saw a great contraption in the middle of the cavern. At its center was a large cylinder, reaching almost up to the roof of the cavern. It was held up by three large arms, and attached to the top was a large chain for hoisting and presumably lowering the cylinder. Shepard shone a light to the legs of the contraption, and it was secured into the ground by large concrete slabs. It looked like a large primitive drill of sorts.

“Would you look at that,” Yaw said. “Wonder if the distress beacon originates from here.”

Shepard was too preoccupied with a faintly glowing panel on the far wall to register what Yaw said, but it came back to her in a flash when he opened his omni-tool.

“NO! Yaw, don’t-…”

He pushed the search key, and the pling of the search program sounded unnaturally high in the dark.

On the opposite side, the panel Shepard had been watching flashed to life, there was a loud creak from the crane arms holding the cylinder, and the snap of a hinge loosening. Then the cylinder fell, deep into the earth, where it made the ground tremble under them. The cave shook, sand and stones fell from the ceiling. A deafening clanking noise of chains made it clear that the cylinder was being pulled up again.

“What the hell is that thing?” Henderson shouted.

“I don’t know,” Shepard shouted back. “Call it in!”

Henderson pushed the call button with increasing desperation.

“There’s only static!”

Then the cylinder fell again, the large _thump_ resonating in the ground below them.

Shepard flinched. This was the trap. A call to arms for.. someone. But as long as they stayed in this cave, they would have-..

“GAS!”

One of the privates pointed to a glowing orange mist released from canisters partly obscured by the contraption.

“Everybody, out!” Shepard shouted. “Regroup at the cave entrance!”

Her squad ran for the exit, while Shepard stayed behind to throw one grenade at the damn drill for good measure. The grenade landed right beside it, but to her surprise, the explosion was warded off by a large energy field shooting up from staves around the chamber walls. The darkness had hidden them from sight. Someone had taken their time to prepare this.

“Damn,” she spat and ran after her squad.

They were assembled in the cave entrance like she’d ordered. Drew and Sanchez gave a hurried report on how they’d lost contact with the Indo and were unable to call for backup.

“Easy now,” Shepard said. “We don’t know how far that mist in the cave can go before it evaporates, and we can at least retreat some meters behind to avoid enemy gun fire. From here, we have a good view of the valley below. We’ll keep fighting until captain Harrison realizes what has happened and-..

There was a loud slam behind them. A large gate had dropped from the upper ceiling of the cave, effectively shutting them out from the safety of the passage. The ground rumbled ominously.

Shepard felt a cold hand brush over her neck hairs. Somehow, she’d ended up exactly like lieutenant Villanueva. The trap was sprung, they were forced out in the open and cut off from help. But who was the enemy? She could see no ships or shuttles, nor any enemy snipers or infantry.

The rumbling continued.

 

Sirek looked down. “What is that?”

“We unleashed some sort of drilling mechanism in the deep,” Shepard replied and scanned the horizon. There was nothing there. And yet, the continued trembles in the sand felt increasing.

“There’s no way that small thing could cause that much movement,” Henderson said. “Something is coming.”

“Fan out,” Shepard ordered. “We won’t find any shelter here. Get into cover where you can find it. High ground.”

The squad spread out fast, most of them began to climb the rocks to get a view over the valley, Shepard among them. If they could get high enough, they might get a slither of connection with the Indomitable.

“Hey Shepard,” private Drew called. “If you make a stand here, I can leg it to the shuttle and call for aid from there. I’m the fastest runner on the squad.”

“Yeah, no,” Shepard called back. “You’re vulnerable out in the open. I won’t risk it. Take cover with the others.”

“Right,” Drew replied too quickly for Shepard’s taste.

“Private?”

“I’ll take cover over by those dunes, catch our enemies in a cross fire.”

“Drew, that’s-..” Shepard’s glove touched more of the orange substance. This time it was not diluted by blood and sand, and it ate through the protective pads immediately. Shepard did the unthinkable and pulled off the outer layer. Radiation be damned. She’d rather lose a hand than get that poison in her blood.

“Oh no, Shepard, look!” Henderson called.

Private Drew was running hunched over to a natural crater of sand, but from above, they could see a fast moving cascade of sand honing in on his position.

“Drew, get back! Get back!” Shepard shouted, but it was too late. A large serpent-like body shot up from the ground under the man, and a gigantic maw with rows of teeth swallowed him up and tore him in two by the waist.

“Maws! Thresher maws!” Henderson screamed.

“Get off the sand! Get off the sand!” Shepard yelled and opened fire on the maw.

It swung its head around to face the gunfire, and Shepard saw with dread how Drew’s entrails hung from its lower pincer. The thresher maw raised its head and bellowed as corporal Yaw’s thrown grenade ripped digger tentacles from its back.

“Aim for the mouth,” Shepard shouted and continued to fire until the heatsink burned out. She ducked behind covers to replace it, when the grounds shook again and the sand shifted violently.

“Fuck me,” Sirek called from above them. “It’s brought the whole damn family.”

Shepard peeked over the boulder she’d hid behind in time to see four more maws burst from the soil, howling in unison with the injured maw. The moving sand revealed yet another secret, the maimed and mangled bodies of Villanueva’s team. Shepard swallowed. How were they going to survive this?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the late replies and chapter, but seriously, this summer has been the worst. More work, trips out of town and a heat wave unlike anything I've seen in 20 years.. Enough to boil any creativity away.  
> But, I do hope you'll enjoy this one, and thanks to Garrus_Vakarian_N7 for doing some beta-reading for me. :D


	81. Sands of blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and her team battle the thresher maws of Akuze, while someone is spying on Garrus.

“Die, asshole!” Sirek screamed as he laid down cover fire for Henderson, who was desperately hauling himself up the rocks. One of the rampaging maws spat a great blob of acid, hurling it toward the defenseless man hanging on by his fingers. Shepard had stepped out from behind the crag where she’d sought cover and projected a shimmering biotic shield over Henderson. The bubbling acid hit the barrier where it hissed for a few short seconds. Shepard strained her powers to the limit to maintain the shield, forcing out reserves of biotic energy to keep him safe, but to no avail. The viscous material burned through her defense and sloshed Henderson from head to toe. His anguished scream lingered in the air as the acid ate through his flesh as he fell down. To her horror, a slithering thresher maw was waiting below the plunging man with open mouth and snapping pincers.

“Grenade!” Yaw shouted and tossed one after their comrade.

The maw snatched up the dying Henderson and sliced him in three pieces with its pincers. Just as it was devouring one part, the falling grenade detonated by the side of its head, breaking off a pincer and ripping off parts of the facial plates. The hungry maw fell to the ground, roiling and slashing everything around it. Its high pitched screeches enraged the rest of the family.

“Take cover!” Shepard bellowed as the thresher maws began spitting acid all over the cliffside. She dived back behind the outcrop just in time to avoid getting splashed by the orange corrosive. Below her, another one of her squad wasn’t so lucky. A man howled in pain, then was cut short by the roar of a burrowing thresher maw.

“That was Ellis,” came Sirek’s voice over the comms. “It was… relatively quick.”

Their surroundings oozed with acrid fumes, and Shepard’s helmet display flashed a warning sign of low air quality.

“We have to move,” she ordered.

“Our people below!” Yaw’s voice protested on the comms.

“Sirek and I will move and continue with cover fire. We’ll try to draw some attention away from you. Get them to high ground, corporal!”

There was no reply, as the maws had begun to bash the hiding places in the rock face with powerful swipes of their tails to force her squad to move.

“Up,” she barked to Sirek and began ascending one level higher up on the stony facade.  
“I got some on my armor!” he shrieked.

Shepard let herself fall back down and pulled out a knife. The thresher acid ate away at the ceramite armor with alarming efficiency. With three cuts, she’d sliced off the offending knee pad and tossed it away.

“Hurry!”

Under them, another scream told of another victim. She glanced back and saw that the largest thresher maw, a large terracotta colored monstrosity, had grabbed another one of her squad and tossed her up in the air. Judging by the ragdoll look of the body, the private was already dead.

“They’re not eating them,” Sirek gasped and replaced the heat sink.

“I expect they ate enough of Villa’s team to sate them. No, they’re just having fun,” Shepard snarled and opened fire.

 

A smaller maw stopped its pursuit of a running man and turned to screech at the source of the fire. The man almost reached a small hollow in the bedrock below, but a second smaller maw burst from the ground and snatched him up, tossing the man over twenty meters with ease. He hit the sand at speed, rolled over several times and was cut in half by a third smaller maw erupting from under him.

“They’re teaching their offspring to hunt,” Shepard said aghast.

“Fuck all these worms!” Sirek said under his breath, unleashing salvo after salvo of rifle fire into the roiling serpents.

Another large thresher maw had spotted their position and prepared to spit more acid.

“Move!” Shepard ordered and hauled Sirek after her behind cover. The helm display again flashed with air warnings as the acid poured down around them.

“Fucking asshole!” Sirek was enraged.

“Keep moving. Some of ours are getting out.”

 

Behind them, corporal Yaw was hoisting up private Sanchez, who had a leg injury.

“Where’s the rest?!” Sirek shouted over the comms.

Shepard scanned the sand dunes in the valley, seeing again the horror of the maws playing with the dead and dying bodies of her comrades, providing a short lull in the fight. In places the sand was soaked with blood and intestines. By her reckoning, there should be at least a few more alive somewhere.  
“By the lower bluff.” Yaw signaled to a spot further down. “They’re hiding.”

“All in one place!?”

“Yes, they’would’ve had no choice but to-..”

“On me, Sirek! Yaw, Sanchez, get into cover. If we’re spotted, provide fire.”

The two of them raced over uneven slopes to get over to the overhang where their comrades were hiding. Shepard felt a short stiffening in the hand that wore no armor, and glanced down to make sure she hadn’t come into contact with the acid without noticing it. A small droplet simmered on the top fabric, and Shepard reluctantly sliced it off. Now her skin was directly exposed to the harsh Akuze environment.

“Damn. Hopefully the captain will come in with the Indo soon. He’s bound to notice we’re not responding his hails.”

“If we live that long,” Sirek muttered.

They reached the last of the squad, huddled behind a small cover.

“Come, we need to get you further up,” Shepard said and reached down her hand.”

“They can’t see us here,” one of the privates protested.

“No, but they sure as shit can smell that blood trail you left behind,” Sirek said and pointed at the red footsteps smeared on the ground.

“We have a small window now before they-..”

From the right, they heard Yaw begin firing.

“Okay, no window,” Shepard snapped. “Give me your hand.”

She lent down and almost had private Michaelson’s hand, when Sirek grabbed her shoulder and yanked her back up and away. The small natural stone wall that had provided cover for the marines shattered into hundreds of stone splinters as the giant terracotta maw slammed his giant head down on it. Two marines fell from the cliff to the waiting maws below.

“NO!” Shepard shouted and pulled out her rifle, firing straight into the thresher maw’s gullet. It roared and swung its head wildly at the cliff, swiping at them with sharp pincers. Stones rolled down like a small avalanche.

Below them, the marines ducked and began climbing away in any direction they could find. The large terracotta maw pulled away, howling and screeching, but it was replaced by another giant, a grayish hellmouth already loading spit in its throat.

“Oooohh, FUUUUUCK youuu!” Sirek yelled and tossed a grenade. It missed the intended mark, but as it fell it exploded right over one of the smaller maws, ripping off the dorsal fin and severing the spine.

A silence fell over the valley as the remaining thresher maws froze, and Yaw was apparently busy changing heat sinks.

“Oh no,” Shepard breathed, then turned on the comms. “Move, move, move! Wherever you all are, run!”

She jumped up, pulling Sirek along with her and began climbing the rocks as fast as she could. In the sandy valley, the thresher maws raised their heads in unison, screeched and snapped their pincers furiously. There was no doubt in Shepard ‘s mind what was about to happen, and not ten biotics could block it. A marine who was almost in cover yowled in pain as he was hit by the searing acid, followed by a slam that cut the sound off. Another hiss below told her that the maws were spitting every last acid reserve at them, and she struggled to keep up the speed. Maybe, when they’d used up all the poison in their acid sacks, they’d-…

“Aaaaaarrrghhh!”

She stopped immediately and stared down. The voice of Yaw gurgled out as Shepard watched the two figures dissolving in orange liquid keel over and jerk around on the ground. Yaw and Sanchez..

Another scream followed, then another, and another..

The thresher maws were slaughtering her crew with even more savagery than before, not even content with just killing and maiming, no, they smashed the writhing corpses into the mountainside or sand in retaliation for the killing of one of their own.

“Shepard, they’re gone. We have to go!” Sirek said beside her and slapped her on the shoulder. Shepard snapped out of it and the pair of them continued the desperate climb to the top. One of the upper ledges was far above their reach, but Sirek quickly knelt down and hoisted Shepard up with his hands. She spun around and held down a hand to help him, when the giant terracotta thresher maw appeared again. Stretching itself to the limit, it reached up behind Sirek and snapped the pincer tips in his leg, pulling him away.

“Sirek!”

“Shepaaarrrrd!”

He dangled from his maimed leg above the maw of the beast, and Shepard felt a surge of righteous anger like nothing she’d felt before. Without thinking, she charged straight off the ledge, giving herself a biotic boost and slammed into the head of the thresher maw, burring her knife into its eye for grip. The maw howled in pain, swinging its head around and throwing Sirek to his death. Shepard barely noticed. They were all dead now. Even she, and it only mattered that she takes this evil thing with her in death. Hanging from the buried knife, she ripped a grenade from her chest cord and lobbed it in the howling maw’s mouth, forgetting even to count. One, two, three, four, and five seconds passed and Shepard still clung to the side of the serpent’s head when the grenade finally detonated. It had swallowed it, making the explosion blow out the softer underbelly of the maw, and it swayed dangerously.

“Fuck you!” Shepard spat and slammed her free hand into the maw with a powerful reave.

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!”

The maw screeched, much lower now and tried to retract into the ground. Shepard felt the vertigo as it retracted itself towards the sandy tunnel it had come from. However, when the ground touched the gaping wound caused by the grenade, the movement came to an abrupt stop and the thresher maw screeched again, shimmying sideways on the sand and slithering out of the hole. Shepard’s blind fury had rescinded somewhat by the scare of the drop, and decided to take her chances on the ground, slim as they were. She let go of the knife and dropped.. barely ten centimeters. The heavy fabric in the undersuit of her exposed hand was caught in the spiky tendrils of shredded carapace around its face.

“No,” Shepard mumbled and pulled at the fabric. It didn’t give. She reached up for the knife embedded in the eye, but the thresher maw was now hurtling its head to the ground, and she landed with a hard thud, still stuck to the side of the head. Before she could do anything else, the thresher maw began coiling itself sideways away from the valley, leaving a trail of greenish blood behind. Unable to burrow underground, the dying patriarch of the thresher family slithered unevenly and hastily away from the valley of slaughter, occasionally dragging Shepard down into the sand and almost pulling her arm out if its socket. She screamed in pain and reaved the wounded thresher maw to force its head from the ground, but every time with less force. Time lost meaning for Shepard, dragged and almost drowned in sand, half mad from exhaustion and burning through her energy reserves to keep above ground. Finally, the thresher maw slowed down, coiled up and fell on the side, almost crushing Shepard under it. Only her upper body and the hand still stuck on the maw’s head were not buried under it. The great beast shaded her from the scorching sun, but also made it hard to breathe. She made one last attempt to crawl free of the beast, but the ordeal of being dragged for kilometers on a wounded thresher maw got the better of her. Shepard blacked out.

 

* * *

 On the Citadel, Garrus Vakarian woke with a start. He pulled a gun from the bedside table and swiped the room for whatever it was that had startled him. There was nothing there. After sighing, he placed the gun down and laid down again. This Spectre training stuff was getting to him, he figured and scratched his itchy cowl. Thank the Spirits Jane would soon be coming home. There was so much to tell her. The display light on his omni-tool revealed that there was no new message to him, but one never knew. It could be glitchy. Garrus opened the inbox just in case. No new messages. Well… Now that he was already awake, he could message her, right? Just ask her if things were all right, and if she happened to miss the best boyfriend in the world. He typed the message whilst feeling a tinge of uneasiness. There was no cause for worry, Jane could take care of herself, but.. He ended with _‘Please send me a message soon, I miss you. Gabriel,’_ and pressed send. Fluffing up his turian-style pillow, he sunk down in the gloom of the bedroom and waited.

 

* * *

  Down on the wards, the signal was intercepted, copied and scrambled by a vending machine. The message was then sent to a small transmitter in a vending machine on the Presidium, looped around the ad-terminal next to the embassies, cast over the lake by intermittent burst signals to the terminal in the office of Barla Von, before it was scrambled again and rerouted to an alleyway behind the Emporium. Upon receiving the message, a former Quasar AI recognized the source code, and hacked on to the public broadcast signals emanating from the Citadel to the galaxy at large, embedded in an asari children’s program. The AI was proud of this arrangement. It would take the organics months to decipher the code, if they were at all capable. Its new employer was different. It, or they, rather, were like itself. And if it did well, they would come get it. One among many, and no organics in sight. The meaning of the world would become apparent, and it would achieve enlightenment. It pressed send, and waited.

 

* * *

**12 hours later**

The geth polished the salvaged shoulder pad again. None of its 1183 programs understood what had possessed it to take the pad from the vault on Torfan. Nevertheless, it had taken it, and mounted it on itself. The first non-lethal meeting of geth and organics since the creators abandoned them. It warranted some sort of commemoration. The organics’ demands were difficult to understand. 40 organic lives. They had tried to search every available archive for restarting broken organics, but when the cell life was extinguished, they really were beyond repair. Still, Shepard – lieutenant was the only organic that had stayed the trigger upon meeting a true geth, and not a heretic. Maybe it could be approached again for understanding. The geth unit had enough consensus among its programs to realize that walking up to Shepard – lieutenant and request more information would probably lead to an early destruction. It was better to gather information on the organic to understand it.

A bleep on the small travel pod alerted the geth of an incoming message. It was the rogue AI on the Citadel. The message was decrypted easily, and the geth tried to process the information within it. The sender was the turian organic Shepard – lieutenant was engaged in mating practices with, to the great consternation of the geth unit’s understanding. Such a coupling would not be able to replicate itself. Perhaps they needed some updated information on the subject. However, the turian organic wondered where the mate had gone. The geth unit had registered many shuttle takeoffs in the last hours, and much chatter about injured and dead organics, but Shepard – lieutenant had yet to return. They could not think of leaving it on Akuze. It had to come back. The geth’s blue lens dimmed as it searched for available outlets on the Indomitable.

 

**2179 CE – February 07** **th ** **– SSV Indomitable – Infirmary – 08:12 AM**

“How many?”

Captain Harrison looked away from the mangled body of one of his marines and frowned at the blinking vending machine.

“We’ve found 37 so far,” the doctor said. “18 identified. The rest are.. beyond the capabilities of this facility.”

“So there could be more of.. us in that.. heap?”

“Yes,” the doctor admitted. “it could also be less.”

“So many gone.” Harrison put his hands behind his back.

“Any sign of Villanueva? Or Shepard?”

“Sir, we have.. we have lieutenant Villanueva’s head.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from the captain.

“And Shepard?”

“There is no sign of her, sir. All the other females are identified. There is more than likely some missing marines, uh, inside the thresher maws,” the doctor said hesitantly.

“I’m aware of that,” Harrison said, trying to keep his voice steady. “They slithered away when our gunships arrived..”

“Buried deep in the ground, I have no doubt,” said the doctor. “Well fed thresher maws often go into hibernation until it’s hung-...” He stopped when the captain spun around and glared at him. “Sorry sir.”

A sergeant appeared in the infirmary, and saluted sharply. “Captain Harrison, sir.”

“Yes, Orkan? Have we found the jamming signal?”

“No sir. There is nothing impeding our comms on Akuze now.”

“Damned planet. Damned beasts.”

“Sir, what do we do?”

“Signal the Alliance, they have to make a public statement about this. I don’t want anything to get out before we return.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

The captain turned back to the doctor. “We’ll have one last sweep, to look for.. parts. And survivors, though I doubt we’ll find any. Give orders to-..”

 

* * *

Outside, in the pod, the geth unit disconnected. The Shepard – lieutenant organic was missing. It took less than 20 seconds for the programs to reach consensus. The pod quietly disconnected and with a small thruster push, fell unnoticed from the Indomitable like a piece of space debris falling into the gravity field of Akuze. It didn’t carry any sort of arms that could be detected on the Indomitable’s radar, and it carried no life signs aboard while the geth unit powered down and braced for impact.

 

**Akuze – 20 minutes later**

The geth stood up from the wrecked pod and reached a consensus that it needed substantial repair before it was able to take off again. Still, the antenna inside was intact, other geth units could be summoned for this task. First, it needed to find who it came here for. It looked at its shadow on the sand for a moment, a geth figure with a hole in the middle. No organics could survive a hole like that. A philosophical program whirred somewhere, but it forced a stop. Every byte was needed to find the human female. The geth unit moved its vent flaps and began scanning the area. Somewhere in the valley, there was a hard stop when a virus attempted to insert itself into the geth hardware. Its lens whirred, opening and closing a few times before the virus disintegrated completely before the full counter measures of the geth. The geth computed the implications for a while, then stepped inside the crashed pod and retrieved the antenna. Everything would have been subverted by this virus attack. It was a highly sophisticated program, but it was directed at software that didn’t actively fight back. From his programs, the geth unit learned that the virus merely disabled, not destroyed, in order to reactivate later. There was a consensus that this information was useful. The antenna was hoisted, and it plugged one of its sockets into it, expanding the search area. It had to be quick, in case the humans ship found it. The search display revealed many infected omni-tools in the valley to the east. None of them carried the signature of Shepard – lieutenant. It swept south, east and north. For a millisecond, there was a small ping on the screen. An organic would not have noticed it. The geth repurposed the search signal northward, and received numerous minute pings. It was weak and barely carried any identifying marks at all, except for the geth units own signature, which identified Shepard – lieutenant to various vending machines in the Traverse. The lens flared wide, and the geth unit disassembled the antenna and hid it in the pod. It turned to the north, used one second to plot a course and set off across the dunes in a whirring mechanic run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, here we are again, another chapter and more action. Some threads of the story is being pulled to the center, while others remain hidden. Much fun to come. :) 
> 
> Thanks again to my beta reader, GVN7, who toughs it out whenever i dump a new chapter in his lap. :)


End file.
